


Stars in the Sky

by AnonymousObsesser



Category: Glee
Genre: Basically how I think things should have progressed after Rachel met Jesse, Episode: s01e14 Hell-O, F/M, Fix-it fic, Gen, St. Berry, could turn into a series of fix-it fics for st berry, i just love them so much, includes deleted scenes, just a little thing for my peace of mind, library scene on, music store scene on, will be several chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-03 17:39:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10972167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousObsesser/pseuds/AnonymousObsesser
Summary: Rachel was not a fan of misogyny. Not at all. So Finn's assumption that she would just fall back because he was great and she was just lucky--it grated on her.After singing her heart out, she goes to a music store out of the way, to clear her head. She runs into a certain Vocal Adrenaline lead, and even with her suspicions, she can't help but feel at home with him.Fix-it fic in which Rachel isn't quite a pushover, Jesse catches feelings a lot earlier than he should, and The Glee Club Ultimatum doesn't go quite as planned.[ON HIATUS UNTIL I CAN GET MY LIFE BACK ON TRACK AFTER FUCKING UP SPECTACULARLY--MORE INFO IN CHAPTER SEVEN NOTES]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It always made me super mad that Rachel was portrayed as some kind of fall-back plan for Finn and never seemed to have a backbone towards him. So I made this, in which Rachel is more pissed about him breaking up with her than she lets on and Jesse falls in love with her a lot faster than he did on the show.
> 
> Also...Shelby.

If there was one thing Rachel Berry hated, it was misogyny. Well, homophobia, too. But mostly misogyny.

She hated it because it was always the same. If a girl was sexually promiscuous, she was a slut--if a guy was, he was a stud. If a guy was successful in life, he'd obviously worked for it--if a girl was, she must have slept to the top or been born into it. And it was like no one cared, like it was just a fact everyone had to agree to. Like they didn't even notice it anymore.

Yeah, well, Rachel noticed. She noticed it every day. And she just wasn't going to take it anymore.

That was why she'd sang that song in Glee Club today. Finn had it coming, saying he wanted to  _ follow his inner rock star  _ when he really just wanted to go out with Santana and Brittany.

Seriously? Did he expect her to be okay with that--to just cry a little and call him a coward in private and act like it was fine in public?

Come on--she was stronger-willed than  _ that _ .

And then, of  _ course _ , Mr. Schuester had just  _ had _ to take Finn's side. Oh, he acted like he was just upset because she hadn't followed the assignment, but she knew his real problem.

So, here she was. In a library-slash-music store just outside of Akron, looking for new material. She'd had to leave Lima for a little while--she didn't want to risk running into anyone from school or Glee Club--and this place had pretty good reviews.

Rachel was thumbing through a book of sheet music when a hand pulled it from under her nose.

"Lionel Richie, huh?" the boy said, smirking. "One of my favorites."

For a moment, she was irritated, her brow twitching as she pursed her lips. She pulled the book closer to her, looking down at it as she said, "Look, I'm not interested in  _ whatever  _ it is your selling, buddy, so if you  _ don't _ mind--"

But then she paused, really looking at him. Curly brown hair, a set of blue eyes under raised brows, the casual way he was leaning on the shelf with his arm crossed under him, totally comfortable in himself...Her eyes widened, and she took half a step back.

"Oh, my god," she squeaked quietly. "You're Jesse St. James. You're in Vocal Adrenaline. Oh, my  _ god _ , I just said that to Jesse St. James, what is  _ wrong  _ with me?" She put a hand to her forehead, looking back down in shock.

Jesse laughed. "Wow," he said, his tone surprised. "Well, I can't say I imagined Rachel Berry telling me off first thing, but..." He shrugged.

Rachel just looked at him. "You know who I am."

"I saw you perform at Sectionals," he replied easily. Reaching out, he stole her book, flipping through it in interest before flipping it shut and tucking it under his arm. "You're rendition of  _ Don't Rain on My Parade  _ was flawed. You  _ totally _ lack Barbra's emotional depth." He gave her a once-over as she frowned. "But you're talented."

Her frown deepened. "Of course I'm talented," she argued, following him as he started away. "I've been singing Barbra since I was four years old, I'm going to be on Broadway someday. I've been working for it my whole life." She crossed her arms as he looked over his shoulder at her. "And I resent the fact that a total stranger from a rival team thinks I'm stupid enough to take his word for it in regards to my lack of talent. I'm sure you're just trying to sike me out right now, throw me off for when we go against each other at Regionals." She grimaced, looking around. "Though why or how you picked this venue to do so, I don't know. I've never been here before today."

Jesse busied himself with thumbing through the books on the shelf in front of him. "Don't flatter yourself, Berry," he said with a smirk. "It's unbecoming of a budding young ingenue such as yourself." He shrugged, moving on to the next shelf. "As for your questioning tone...This is one of my favorite haunts. I like to comb through the celebrity biography section, pick up some life style tips." She caught his sly look. "You're not the only high school show choir lead destined for the bright lights of Broadway, you know."

"Oh, really?" Rachel looked him up and down, in his high-end but ratty jeans and all-black shirt/jacket ensemble. "You don't seem the Broadway type. Rock star, maybe, or maybe pop-punk--"

"Not a word."

"--but not Broadway." She pursed her lips. "Dream roles?"

"Top Three or Top Ten?"

"I'm curious now. Ten."

"I was hoping you'd say three," he replied.

"Why ask then?" she challenged. "You could have just said your top three."

"I'm used to talking to agents." He grabbed another book. "Anyway, Top Ten. Curly, of course, and Nick Arnstein. Jack from _Into the Woods_ , Jean Valjean in _Les Miz._ _The Phantom of the Opera_."

He paused, and she said, "Good so far. You've still got five left."

" _ Sweeney Todd _ , Zach from  _ A Chorus Line _ , Che or maybe Juan Peron, Tony in  _ West Side Story _ , Fiyero in  _ Wicked _ ."

"All very good roles," she said appreciatively. "I approve. Of course, you'll need to narrow your list down."

"Who says?" he challenged, looking at her straight-on. "I'll do all of them."

"Well, I'd say you're not cut out for Fiyero and the Phantom. Or Sweeney Todd, or probably even Jean Valjean. Perfect for Tony and his hoodlum ways, though, so congratulations on that one."

"Oh, look, the Jewish girl with two gay dads, profiling based on looks."

"Been doing research?"

"Maybe I have." He grinned crookedly. "What are  _ your  _ dream roles?"

"I, personally, am going to play three roles on Broadway. I've known this since I was four." She ticked them off her fingers. " _Funny Girl_ , _Evita_ , and Laurey in _Oklahoma!_." She paused. "Although, now that I think about it, I might need to rearrange my plans, if _you_ plan on playing Nick, Che, and Curly."

He laughed. "I wouldn't worry your pretty little head about that," he said condescendingly. "You don't have what it takes to be Eva, and given your lackluster  _ Don't Rain on My Parade _ , it's doubtful you'd be cast as a Miss Fanny Brice in any half-decent production."

"And Laurey?" she bit. "I suppose you'll say I'm too uptight for her? It's what everyone else says, and given  _ your  _ stereotypical insults, well..."

"Actually, I'd say you've got just the right amount of backwoods charm for Laurey." He grinned. "I'm sure you'd do better with  _ Don't Cry for Me Argentina  _ than you did with your pitiful Barbra imitation."

Rachel huffed, her eyes narrowed. "I couldn't care less about what you think, St. James." She yanked his books from him, taking back the Lionel Richie music before shoving the rest back into his arms. "I don't know why you've deigned to  _ grace  _ me with your  _ shining  _ presence," she said viciously. "But don't bother with it ever again."

She turned to go, but Jesse's hand on her arm held her back. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "For upsetting you, I mean. It's just...It's just how I am sometimes." He sighed as she looked up at him with an unimpressed gaze. "Look, can we just start over?  _ Really  _ start over--no Vocal Adrenaline versus New Directions stuff. Even though you were wrong about that."

"Wrong about what?"

"I didn't just come to talk to you to sike you and your team out," he explained. "I just saw you, figured I'd strike up a conversation with a pretty girl." He smiled sheepishly. "Honestly, I didn't even realize who you were until you really looked at me."

"Interesting." She crossed her arms, shaking his hand off in the process. "How am I supposed to trust you, hmm? Why should I believe what you say?"

"You shouldn't." Jesse shrugged. "I know I sure as hell wouldn't. It doesn't really matter. I mean, it's obvious Vocal Adrenaline is going to beat New Directions at Regionals--why would I have to try to make you fail when you already will?"

Rachel just looked at him for a minute. He had a point.

"Anyway, I'm a senior this year, so this is kind of like a victory lap for me--that's why I'm so sure VA is going to make it to Nationals again." She watched as he dropped his stack of books on a nearby shelf, leaning next to them and taking her book again. He looked through the pages as he continued. "Of course, snagging that  _ fourth consecutive _ Nationals trophy would just be gravy for me, since I already know I'm getting out of here after I graduate." He glanced at her briefly. "I've got a full ride to a little school called the University of California, Los Angeles waiting for me." He smirked. "Maybe you've heard of it? It's in Los Angeles."

"I gathered," she said wryly.

"Yeah, well, the LA part is the only good thing about the school--aside from its show choir major--so it bears repeating." Jesse looked at the page he'd flipped to--it happened to be the page Rachel had originally been looking at--and gestured to the piano. "Want to give this a spin?"

Rachel's eyes widened. "Here?" She followed him as he took a seat on the bench, looking around anxiously. "Is that even allowed?"

"Sure, I do it all the time."

"I--I don't know," she said softly. "I...I'm kind of nervous."

Jesse sighed wistfully. "I remember when I used to get nervous." He looked up at her encouragingly. "Come on, one song. Like I said, I do it all the time. Not just here, either--I give impromptu concerts for the homeless." His face lit up in a boyish grin. "It's so important to give back."

Rachel couldn't help smiling back as he played the opening notes.

" _ I've been alone with you inside my mind _ ," Jesse sang, glancing at her with a small smile. " _ And in my dreams, I've kissed your lips a thousand times _ ."

Rachel couldn't help glancing around, noticing the people watching and smiling. She was used to giving performances, of course, but they were always  _ planned _ , not spontaneous. This was different, more...personal, almost.

" _ I sometimes see you pass outside my door _ ," Jesse was trilling. " _ Hello. Is it me you're looking for? _ "

" _ I can see it in your eyes _ ," they sang together, and Rachel was surprised at how well their voices blended. Neither overpowered the other, they were perfectly in sync. It was just so  _ easy  _ to join together, to smile arrogantly at each other as they sang, " _ I can see it in your smile. You're all I've ever wanted, and my arms are open wide. _

" _ Cuz you know just what to say, and you know just what to do. And I want to tell you so much...I love you. _ "

Jesse gave her an appreciative look, playing the next notes, and she gave an, " _ Oooh, yeah... _ "

He slid over in his seat as he crooned the next lyric. " _ I long to see the sunlight in your hair. _ "

" _ And tell you time and time again...how much I care _ ," she answered, sitting slowly. He smirked as she took over the notes on her side of the keys.

She played the next set of bouncy notes and couldn't help laughing quietly when he grinned proudly.

" _ Sometimes I feel my heart will overflow _ ..."

Singing with Jesse was...nice. More than nice, it was amazing, freeing, more entertaining and just all around perfect than she'd ever felt singing with anyone else.

When the song was over, their shared gaze was broken only when she heard applause and looked around in surprise.

Jesse gave her another sly smile. "We should do this more often." He raised a brow. "How's Friday night?"

Rachel smiled at his appreciative grin, standing. "I'm really sorry, Jesse." She glanced at the book still sitting on the piano, but ultimately decided that this song wouldn't work--she'd already performed it to perfection with Jesse, she'd never be able to get it better--and left it be. "I'm working on a project for Glee Club, so I'm busy all weekend. It's due by Monday."

"What's the project?"

"Find a song with  _ Hello  _ in the title. I already screwed it up once yesterday, and Mr. Schue expects better from me. Not that he'll care if I don't get a song, but I like to be perfect as often as possible, so that the team doesn't stage a mutiny."

"I have a feeling that's an interesting story," Jesse mused. "I'd love to hear it."

"My boyfriend--well, ex-boyfriend, now--decided he'd rather date two...sexually promiscuous cheerleaders than just date me." She grimaced, shrugging.

"He sounds like an idiot."

Her cheeks flushed gently as his sweet smile. "I mean...I called him a coward when he did it, but I didn't fight it. He should have taken that as a warning, but I guess he thought I'd just let it go, simple as that, and move on. He should have known better--I always sing when I'm emotional. I sang  _ Gives You Hell _ , saying it was for the assignment, and Mr. Schue got angry because it wasn't  _ exactly  _ what he asked for."

"And he expects better from your team."

"No, just from me."

Jesse's brow jumped in surprise. "He expects you to do better than everyone else? Well, you are the lead singer, it shouldn't be a surprise."

"I'm not," she said bitterly, crossing her arms and moving away from the piano. "Theoretically, I am, and I should be. I'm the best singer in our group, male or female, but most definitely female. And I'm co-captain with Finn, meaning it's our job to keep everyone excited and working. But I'm not  _ officially _ the female lead. Mr. Schuester gives solos based on situation. Sometimes Mercedes will get one, if she's complained enough in any given week, or Santana, if she's particularly nice to people long enough."

"That sounds messed up," he observed. "That he can't just make a decision. In VA, we pick one, maybe two, lead singers--it's been me and sometimes Giselle for almost four years now--and base every performance around them. Like I said, I saw you at Sectionals. Even leaving aside emotion--you were only a little off on that, though, I'll admit--you're the best singer and dancer in New Directions."

"Oh, I'm aware," she agreed. They walked over to another bookshelf, grabbing his discarded stack along the way, as she spoke. "Most of the others have only done casual singing and dancing for most of their lives. I'm the only one who actively practices in real classes." She huffed. "Even  _ more  _ ridiculous is that Finn--my ex-boyfriend I told you about--is  _ actually _ ,  _ officially _ , the male lead."

"Gigantor from Sectionals?" Jesse asked sardonically. "Dances like a zombie?"

"That's Finn," Rachel said with a giggle. "It doesn't really make sense, regardless of his dance skills."

"Why's that?"

"Because the only reason Finn was recruited was because I  _ begged  _ Mr. Schue to find me a male lead, one who could keep up with me vocally. It was in the early days, before competition season really started, and we only had five members, three girls and two boys. One of the boys had a range too close to mine to match me, and the other is talented, but...not talented enough."

"Okay, so he's your partner. Does he still get male parts when you don't get the female part?"

"Yes," she spat. "He pairs with Quinn or Santana, or even Mercedes sometimes. The only times he  _ doesn't  _ get the solo is in one of two situations. The least likely is if Mr. Schue is mad at him. Finn is his second favorite, me being his first favorite. So he can show favoritism to Finn, but not to me. Backwards logic, I know."

"What's the other situation?"

"He refuses the solo." Rachel shrugged. "He will, sometimes, to be the 'good guy'," she said, using air quotes. "Then Artie gets the solo, usually, though Noah is just as talented and gets it sometimes. Mr. Schue pretends he doesn't like Noah--well,  _ Puck _ , if you're going by his nickname. Which I'm the only one who calls him Noah, and he only lets me get away with it because, how does he put it?"

She paused, tapping her lip. "Oh, right." She cleared her throat, using air quotes. "'We're both hot Jews.'"

Jesse snorted in surprise. "That might be the worst excuse for friendship I've ever heard."

She shrugged again. "Noah will be Noah--he doesn't do _feelings_ , so he makes excuses. Anyway, Schuester pretends he doesn't like Noah, but--but it's just because he's an adult and Noah is a troublemaker. They--Schue, Noah, and Finn--were in this group together a few months ago. Noah had a solo in their cover of  _ I Wanna Sex You Up _ , and I have to admit it was  _ really _ good. And he serenaded me once with a rendition of  _ Sweet Caroline _ , after I questioned his quote unquote badassness by insinuating he couldn't handle a relationship with me if he wasn't willing to sing a solo."

"Sounds interesting," he hummed. "Exactly how many boys in your group have you dated?"

Rachel paused. "Just Finn and Noah. Why?"

"Just wondering."

"Anyway," she said slowly, still squinting at him suspiciously. "It used to be nice, having Finn as the male lead, since I get a lot of solos--not all of them, but probably at least seventy percent--but...Now that I'm looking at it from an objective perspective, I can tell that some of those solos he got would have been better with Noah or Artie."

Jesse  _ mmm _ 'ed as they reached the register, flashing a smile at the cashier as he handed over his card. "Just these, thanks," he said to her. He turned to Rachel. "Well, your teacher  _ also _ sounds like an idiot," he said bluntly.

"Considering he teaches Spanish and barely knows the language, an accurate assessment."

The checkout girl held out his bag. "Thanks," Jesse said sweetly, stuffing a few bills in the donation box. He lead Rachel over to the door, holding it for her. "Well, if you need help with your project, the offer for Friday still stands," he supplied. "Here." He pulled his phone from his pocket, unlocking it and handing it over. "Put in your number, I'll text you."

She took it hesitantly, then gave him a raised brow at the picture on the home screen. "Friends?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Best friends. Chris and Andi--they've been dating since he was a senior the first time."

Rachel laughed, navigating to his contacts. "I've heard of them, I think. Andrea Cohen, right? She's one of the best singers you've got," she said as she typed. "And Chris is the boy who got held back by, like, six years. The guy who does the triple flip. Mr. Schue used to teach him, I think." After labeling her contact  _ Rachel Barbra _ , she handed the phone back to him and crossed her arms over her stomach. "Don't see how it's even remotely legal," she grumbled. "But whatever."

Jesse laughed. "Six-year senior. Crazy, I know. But he's a good guy. Andi's on her fourth year, herself. But with our new coach...they'll probably graduate this year or next." Her brow raised. "Shelby Corcoran," he explained. "She took over after Dakota. Doesn't let anyone fail, even sends non-members to do our work for us while we rehearse."

"That's not a good habit," Rachel said sternly, her hands on her hips. "You can't expect to go to college without going to class in high school. No one is going to do your work for you."

Jesse gave her a blank look. "Well, I mean, I guess you're right."

Rachel scoffed. "Why am I not surprised to find you haven't even thought about it?" She shook her head gesturing at him vaguely. "You've got my number. Text me so I have yours, maybe we can meet up or something on Friday."

He grinned. "Sure. It was nice meeting you, Rachel."

She pursed her lips for a minute before smiling. "You, too, Jesse."


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, it was Friday afternoon. Rachel had all but forgotten about Jesse, too focused on avoiding Finn (and Santana and Brittany), and searching for a  _ Hello  _ song in her free time.

But then she got a random text message as she was leaving school. She almost deleted it--she generally didn't answer texts or phone calls from numbers she didn't recognize--but then she really read it.

_ Hey _ , it said.  _ It's Jesse St. James, from VA or the music store, whichever you care to remember. Wanted to say I'm in Lima, performing at the soup kitchen. I get off in a half hour, you're getting out of school, right? Wanna meet? _

She took a moment to answer, still standing on the sidewalk in stunned silence. Then she was typing furiously, heading away from the school and towards her house.

_ Yeah, I'm out of school _ , she said.  _ If you want, you can come over to my house. Or we can meet somewhere else, if you're worried about being murdered. _

His reaction was lightning-fast, and she could hear the sarcasm in it.  _ Well, I am now _ .

_ Don't be. I'm not so careless as to stoop to murdering the competition.  _ She paused, then sent another message.  _ Can't say the same about the rest of my team, but you don't have to worry about it from me. _

_ You're funny _ , his next message said.  _ And insane. Luckily, I'm the same. Either way, I could take you, so...you're place is fine. Address? _

She sent it without hesitation, then said,  _ I resent that statement. I'm sure if I tried, I'd be plenty capable of killing you. _

_ Thanks. And I would suggest not saying that kind of thing. What if I did turn up dead? They'd find this conversation and think the worst of you. Even if you could kill me, you wouldn't last a day in prison. _

She pursed her lips, thinking, as she opened her front door.  _ You're probably right. Just, like...don't die, or get murdered. And we won't have a problem. _

_ Deal. Gotta go, next song is up. I'll see you soon. _

* * *

It was almost an hour before her doorbell rang, and she took almost a full minute to get to it, setting her homework and sheet music aside to walk-- _ not _ run--downstairs and open the door.

"Hey, Jesse," she greeted, gesturing him inside.

"Hey, Rachel." He glanced around the room, peeking into the kitchen and family rooms. "Nice place."

"Thank you," she replied, pleased, as she shut the door. She pointed to the stairs. "I've got my music collection in my room, we can go up there."

"Sounds good." Jesse started up after her. "Aren't your dads home?"

"Tomorrow, probably," Rachel said easily. "They're never home on weekdays anymore, not since I was twelve and they decided I could take care of myself. It's...weird, I know. But they work a lot. Dad's a judge in Pennsylvania, Daddy owns a restaurant in San Diego."

"At least they visit. My parents are never home. Well, maybe once or twice a year, for a birthday or a performance." He shrugged. "I'm lucky, though, I guess. I'm their favorite--they told me so--so my brother and sister see them even less than I do, probably."

"Your parents just came out and told you you were their favorite?" Rachel asked, suspicious. "Were your siblings there, or was it one of those times where parents tell each of their kids in private that they're their favorite and tell them not to tell the others?"

Jesse laughed as they entered her room, shutting the door behind them and lounging on her bed. "Oh, no, Ruby and Ezra were definitely in the room when they said it. I'm pretty sure it triggered Ruby's bulimia and Ezra's addiction."

"That's  _ terrible _ ," Rachel said, scandalized.

He shrugged. "They owed us all the truth. You're lucky--you're an only child."

"I wish I wasn't," she muttered, sitting next to him. "I've always kind of wished I had a sibling, or someone who could...I don't know,  _ get  _ me. Understand me. Support me from a peer's point of view, not an adult's. Even now that I have more friends--and I use that term loosely, because they don't even like me, usually--I don't have anybody like that. Finn says I'm going places, even Noah says I'm the most likely of anyone he's ever met to get out of Ohio, but they aren't  _ supportive _ , they don't  _ understand _ . Kurt is the most like me out of everyone in the group, but he doesn't really like me, so we've never connected over that--I think a big part of the reason he dislikes me is that I 'steal'--" air quotes "--solos. He's the one I told you about the other day."

"The one with the range to match yours?"

"Yeah, I mean, pretty close to it. His voice is naturally high--his singing voice is even higher. And then, even after that...Mercedes doesn't get wanting to be anything but a powerhouse, Artie is supposedly the conscience of the group, the other two boys are just dancers, Tina doesn't talk to anyone, really, let alone me, Brittany is...um...challenged...that is, she tends to say odd things that never really make any sense, but I'm sure that she's smart because she made it to high school and does sports, so...Anyway, the last two, Santana and Quinn, say that they hope I do succeed, but then they always add on some insult about how if I don't I'll be stuck ruining their lives."

"That sucks," Jesse said sympathetically, looking at the ceiling. "I can't imagine how I'd feel if my team didn't appreciate me. You shouldn't have to deal with that."

"It is what it is." Rachel sighed, turning to face him. "I wanted to thank you. For taking time out of your no doubt  _ extremely _ busy schedule to help me. I've been struggling to find a good, new,  _ Hello  _ song that really works for me."

He sat up quickly. "No worries," he said with a smile, pulling a tape from his bag. "I've got the perfect thing, all ready for you." He opened her radio, pulling the tape already there out and replacing it with his own. "Have you ever heard of a little show called  _ A Chorus Line _ ?"

And then they were singing, dancing, having fun. They were both performers at heart, trying to outdo each other constantly. She looked into her mirror, he leaned against it with a cocky smirk. He laid a hand high on her thigh as he sang, " _ I'll show you mine, you show me yours _ ," and she rolled away, singing, " _ Seeing daddies naked! _ "

Rachel couldn't help a giggle when he made the gesture with his next line, but when she continued her line, she couldn't help her nervousness. They were looking at each other so soulfully, it was hard not to get wrapped up in it. And then he was leaning close to her, singing, " _ Hello, love... _ "

She broke away, rushing to the mirror again, and then they were singing at each other, and the song was over. They were both breathing heavily, both a little lost.

Jesse ran a hand through his hair, huffing one last time. "You need to sit down." He tugged her wrist, and she sat slowly on the bench at the end of her bed. Jesse paced in front of her for a minute before spinning to face her. "You were just trying to pull focus," he accused.

Rachel looked around nervously, a little shocked. "Oh, well, there's--there's no one else here. I--"

"It was exhilarating," he explained, cutting her off. He put a hand over his heart. "When you're as incandescent as I am, no one ever tries to go toe-to-toe with you."

She nodded, still stunned. "Yes, I...I've had the same issue."

Jesse grinned, throwing his hands up. "I'm not surprised." He sighed, a little longing, and shook his head incredulously. "It's a shame you're not on Vocal Adrenaline. You and I--we'd get every duet. You'd beat out Giselle for female lead by a landslide, definitely."

She smiled gently. "That's nice of you to say, but..."

"I'm not just saying it," he said earnestly. "I mean it."

Her eyes were wide. "Really?"

"Really." Jesse sat next to her. "Coach would be crazy not to choose you over Izzy, and you would never have to worry about battling for solos ever again." He brushed her hair behind her ear, smiling when she blushed. "Like I said, a shame."

"I almost wish I was in Vocal Adrenaline," she admitted. "Not just because of the compliment. Your team just seems more serious. I try to get ND to get serious about competitions and stuff, but Mr. Schue continues to waste time on silly assignments."

"Yeah, VA doesn't do that," he agreed.

"What do you do?"

"We have this long list of songs that we practice throughout the year," he told her, dropping his hand to rest between them. "Usually, about three weeks before any competition, the coach will tell us which songs we're using for that particular competition, and we start rehearsing those ones non-stop. And I  _ do _ mean non-stop. VA practices from two-thirty to midnight every day, and some people have to participate in extra rehearsals during the day--usually me, Giselle, Andi, and Chris teaching the finer points of dance and harmonization to the fresher faces."

Rachel sighed, her gaze distant. "That actually sounds so much better than what I have to deal with."

Jesse laughed. "You might be the only person I've ever known who prefers  _ more  _ practice."

"Practice makes perfect."

"True. Is that why you all looked so unrehearsed at Sectionals?"

"Oh, no, we had actually practiced for that competition," she grumbled. "But we had our set list stolen, and we had to come up with new songs that day--within an hour."

"You sang  _ Don't Rain on My Parade  _ on the fly like that?" he asked, incredulous. When she nodded, he whistled. "Well, then, you were pretty damn perfect. I take back what I said the other day. If you could do that without really warming up and practicing it..."

"Well, I've been practicing that song since I was four."

"But not for competition," Jesse insisted, taking her hand. "Rachel, there's a difference between practicing songs because you like them and practicing them to  _ win _ . I know you like Barbra--" he cast a glance over at her bulletin board "--and I'm sure you try to be like her. But you rehearse her for  _ yourself _ , not to prove to people that you can."

Rachel just looked at him, wide-eyed. "I never really thought of it that way," she said finally.

He smirked. "Glad I could help you with that." He moved closer to her. "So..." he drawled. "Have you ever worked on a kissing scene before? It's incredibly important for a budding young ingenue."

She laughed gently. "Does that line actually work?"

Jesse's shoulders moved in a shrug. "I wouldn't know," he murmured cheekily. "You tell me."

Rachel was smiling just a bit, and she looked down and shook her head in disbelief.

Jesse cupped her jaw, moving her hair back again in the process, and tilted her face up so she was looking at him once more. His smile matched hers in gentleness, and then he was leaning forward, both of their eyes slipping closed as their lips met softly.

It was a sweet kiss, slow, as their mouths slotted together easily. His mouth tasted like coffee--like a latte or something similar--and the taste blended smoothly with what was left of her strawberry lip gloss. She sighed, her lips parting just enough to make the kiss deeper without going too far. He took in a sharp breath, and then a second later it was over.

Jesse stroked her cheek gently as Rachel opened her eyes and looked up at him. His own gaze was half-lidded, and he took a breath before speaking.

"That was good." Jesse leaned back, dropping his hand. "But I have some notes."

Rachel nodded, wide-eyed, and laughed breathlessly. "Okay," she said. "Let's go over them."


	3. Chapter 3

By the time Monday came around, Rachel wasn't any closer to finding a song for the assignment, but she was sure it wouldn't matter, anyway. Mr. Schue would just pick a random song for the group number, and then the assignment would be over.

She and Jesse had gotten closer over the weekend, spending their time watching musicals and singing along to the radio. (And kissing...)

They went to the mall on Sunday, and got pictures in the photo-booth.

The first set--cheesy poses, them making faces, one of him kissing her cheek, another with her head on his shoulder, the last them making a heart between them--was for Rachel. She tucked it into her bag. (Later, she would hang it up in her locker at school.)

The second set--mostly composed of them making out, staring deeply into each other's eyes, hugging, or being otherwise engaged and therefore not ever looking in the camera at any point in time--was for Jesse. He folded it carefully, keeping the creases in-between pictures so neither his face nor hers was crinkled or bent, and put it in his wallet for safekeeping.

(He hung it up in the driver's side visor in his car, so on sunny days he looked at her instead of the boring grey interior of his vehicle. Rachel would laugh at him when she first saw it, but then he'd find out about the pictures in her locker, and she would shut up. Besides, she couldn't deny that it was romantic, if slightly cheesy...Then again, she liked romantic musicals...)

Rachel had another picture of Jesse, too, that she put in her locker first thing Monday morning. It was just a simple one, black-and-white, and she'd scribbled out the background so you couldn't tell it was taken in her bedroom. She put hearts around it, too--little sparkly red ones--and she couldn't help smiling whenever she opened the locker during the day.

It was one such occasion when Finn came up to her.

"Hey, Rach, can we talk?" he asked.

She looked up at him, shutting her locker softly. "Sure, Finn. How was your date with Brittany and Santana, by the way?"

"That's...kinda what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Look, Finn," Rachel said, holding up a hand to stop him. "If you're trying to get advice about girls, maybe try Quinn. Or maybe Noah, I'm sure he'd be able to give you some pointers with all the... _relationships_ he's had."

"No," Finn said quickly. "That's not what I--" He sighed. "Look, I want to apologize." He shrugged. "I realized, when I was with Brittany and Santana the other night, that I don't _want_ to date other girls. Especially not them--they were mean, and didn't even really talk to me the whole time." He shook his head, wiping the clueless look from his face just a bit. "Anyway, it made me realize I don't wanna date other girls," he repeated. "Only you."

Rachel's brow creased, her eyes flicking away as she started to say something. But he cut her off, not really looking at her head-on anymore.

"You _do_ talk too much...And usually you're just talking about yourself, but, I--I..." He shrugged, his lips quirking. "I dunno, at least I don't feel _alone_ when I'm with you."

Aaaaand she just _needed_ to stop him right there, once again holding up a hand before he could continue. "I'm glad that you've finally come to that realization, Finn," she said. "But you're too late. I've met someone else."

"Wh--"

"A boy who's actually _worthy_ of my talent and love. Unlike some people, who would abandon me for no apparent reason, or who don't truly support me in my passion but only listen with fake attention until we can make out, or who bully me into agreeing to do the 'cool thing', or who question my ability to do solos so much so that they are sometimes taken from me and given to the undeserving."

"Hey, wait, I never did _any_ of that. I've always supported you."

"Well, I know for a fact you did at least one of them," Rachel spat. "As for the others...even if you didn't do it on _purpose_ , you still _did._ And if it wasn't _you_ doing it...You never discouraged others from doing it. My new love will, and we'll be starring opposite each other on Broadway someday." She moved around him, heading for her next class.

"Whoa, whoa, _wait_ ," Finn repeated. His brow creased, curious. "Do I know this guy? What...is he--is he bigger than me?"

She scoffed, shaking her head. "In personality, definitely," she retorted. She regretted it instantly, sighing and adding, "No, Finn, you don't know him. He doesn't go to this school. And he's a senior, so you probably wouldn't even if he did. His name is Jesse, and he's the male lead of Vocal Adrenaline." Now Finn scoffed, and she could just see the complaint on his face and spoke to ease it. "We're both very aware that our Romeo and Juliet romance will be a challenge, but our deep, pure respect for each other's talent will carry us through."

"Rachel, don't you think that's kinda suspicious?" Finn asked, laughing. "We make it to Regionals and suddenly the top guy in our main competition picks you up?"

"Of _course_ I find it suspicious, Finn," she replied with a glare. "It was the first thing I said when we met. But Jesse has been nothing but open with me about the circumstances surrounding this relationship. He talked to me because he thought I was pretty, and _then_ he realized who I was. It has nothing to do with us being competition." She rolled her eyes. "If we could even be considered competition for VA."

"Well, you said the guy wants to be on Broadway, right? Who says he's not acting?"

"Wow," Rachel said softly, looking at the ground. "Do you really think so little of me?" She shook her head, incredulous. "How naive I must have been, if you think I can't tell when someone is acting. Regardless," she continued over him, her eyes narrowing as he tried to protest, "I know it's hard, Finn, for you of all people to believe that someone might actually like me without an ulterior motive--that _is_ how we got started, after all, way back when, isn't it? But you have to accept that the love Jesse and I share, though young and fragile and riddled with obstacles...it's real."

Finn just looked at her in shock, and she turned to go, giving him one last beseeching and earnest look as she said, "Move on, Finn. I finally have."

She left him standing in the hall, continuing on her way.

* * *

Tuesday came.

Rachel was having a good day--the sun was shining, she hadn't been slushied yet this week, she finally found her lucky knee socks. It was a good feeling, she was happy. Plus, she'd woken up to a text from Jesse asking to meet the next day. She'd have to take the train after school, but he'd take her to dinner and drive her home. It was going to be great, she just knew it.

She had a bounce to her step as she walked in the choir room before first block. "Hey, guys!" she said cheerily, seeing the four members she'd known longest gathered in the chairs.

Then she noticed their serious faces, and her smile dropped a bit.

"Cut the butter, Benedict Arnold," Kurt spat. "We heard about your new boyfriend."

Rachel frowned, looking down at her shoes. "I--"

Mercedes cut her off. "Look, Rachel, we're all happy that you're happy." _Probably not true,_ Rachel couldn't help thinking, but she didn't interrupt. "But we've worked too hard here to let you throw it all away on a relationship that _might_ not even be real."

"Why, because he's in Vocal Adrenaline?" Rachel challenged, shaking her head.

"Their motto is kill or be killed," Kurt said bitterly.

"They give their dancers human growth hormone," Tina chimed.

"That's a myth," Rachel defended. "They're all very serious about what they do and staying true to themselves to be the best they can be."

"Did Jesse tell you that?" Mercedes asked. "I'm sure he gave you the inside scoop, huh? Expected you to do the same?"

"He didn't tell me anything that would give us an edge," Rachel said, crossing her arms. "Not that we can beat them, anyway, with how we've all been acting. I mean, how is this considered being a good team?" she asked, gesturing to them. "Likewise, the only thing I ever said about our practices and such was how happy I was we even _had_ a show choir, given how it was last year. And yes, I may have vented my insecurities about being in this group with all of you, because you guys don't exactly support me, but nothing I said could _possibly_ be used to give them an edge--if anything, it would only make VA more nervous."

Mercedes shook her head. "Look, we're not saying the dude's playin' you."

"He's playing you," Kurt disagreed bluntly.

Rachel scoffed as Mercedes powered through with, "We're just _saying_ that, until Regionals is over, well...we can't risk the possibility that he _is_."

"None of us want to go through what happened at Sectionals again," Tina said softly.

"Okay, look," Rachel said with a sigh. "Jesse and I...we might not be true love. It's _high school_ . But...what if we _are_ ? I know who I am, where I'm going, what I'm doing. How can you expect me to give this up--this chance of being happy, _truly_ happy, in a way that even my inevitable Broadway success won't make me? How many chances at this--love, real happiness--how many chances am I gonna get?"

Her fellow Glee members were quiet for a moment. Then Kurt and Mercedes shared a look.

"If you don't break up with him, you're out," Kurt stated.

"You can't kick me out!" Rachel said, her voice rising.

Artie folded his hands in his lap, shrugging. "No," he agreed easily. "But we can all quit if Mr. Schue doesn't."

"Well, good luck winning without me."

"Everyone is replaceable, Rachel," Kurt said, his eyes sad but hard. "Even you."

"How could you do this to me? I thought you were my friends, that you'd be happy for me."

"How could you do this to _us_?" Mercedes asked. "We're a team. And all you ever wanted was for us to be great. Be a part of something special. Now is that still true, or not?"

Rachel was quiet for a minute. "I need to think," she said softly. "We'll talk in Glee on Friday, before the group number, okay? All of us, including the Football players and Cheerios. I just--" She sniffed. "I just need some time, okay?"

Mercedes gave her a sad look. "Sure, Rach. Take however long you need." She looked at the others before looking back to Rachel, putting a hand on her arm. "We know you'll make the right choice."

* * *

The next day, Rachel took the two-hour train-ride to Akron, then rode the bus for twenty minutes to Carmel High School.

As she pulled open the doors to the auditorium, she looked at her phone one last time.

 _Meet me on the stage at Carmel_ , Jesse's message said--just as it had all morning.

She didn't know why he chose this place, but she wasn't too concerned about it. Maybe he was just getting out of practice and would still be there, so he figured it would be the easiest place to meet. It didn't really matter.

Rachel climbed the stairs to the stage carefully, tugging her bag close.

"Jesse?" she called, glancing around.

As she reached center-stage, the spotlight came on. It seemed brighter than it should be, and she squinted, looking away.

"Who's there?" she called again, slightly frantic. "I carry a rape whistle!"

"It's just me," an amused voice chimed.

In a doorway just beside the stage stood Jesse, leaning against the frame. She sighed in relief, hand to her heart, as he pushed away and came towards her.

He gestured to the light. "Most spots are twenty-five-hundred watts. This one is ten times as bright." He sighed, shrugging. "We have to wear sunscreen on stage, but it's worth it."

Rachel tucked her hair behind her ears, stepping right up to him as he flipped the spotlight off and put the remote away. "I guess everything is bigger and brighter here." He laughed, looking at her after a moment. She took a deep breath. "I have to ask you something."

"Mm-hmm," he hummed with a nod, crossing his arms over his chest with a serious expression.

"And I need you to tell me the truth because if you don't there will be consequences. Life and death consequences." Her brow scrunched in concentration. "And I know that we already talked about this, that first day I met you, but I have to ask again, because I'm starting to question myself right now and I need _you_ to _tell_ me. Because if I give myself to you--if I let myself date you and fall in love with you and really be _with_ you--and it turns out you're just playing me...I might die."

Jesse's eyebrows jumped, his lips turning up in an attempt not to laugh, and she backtracked.

"Okay, not literally or physically--" Rachel paused, thinking about it. "Well, maybe, depending on if ND finds out, which they will, but it really just depends on who finds out first, I guess..." She shook her head, starting over. "But that's not the point. Regardless of the physical, literal aspect of it, the fact is that I will be emotionally deceased. If I give my heart to you, and you break it, I will never recover. It'll be the kind of heartbreak that haunts me forever, I won't have any peace from it for the rest of my life. It'll be the kind that girls like me--emotional, romantic, fairy-tale-ending type girls--hold for the rest of their lives." She paused, then elaborated further, "Like Barbra in _The Way We Were_."

Jesse finally just laughed, throwing his head back. He put his hands on her waist, gently pulling her to his chest. "Oh, my god," he told the ceiling.

"What?" she said with a pout, looking up at him.

He grinned back at her. "You're more of a drama queen than I am," he said with another laugh.

She looked between them, disappointed and a little sad, and then he stepped away from her. He held a hand out, and she just got even more confused.

"Hi," he said. "I'm Jesse."

Her brow creased. "I know who you are."

Jesse shook his head, lowering his hand for a moment. "No, you know Jesse St. James. The star of Vocal Adrenaline, your competition at Regionals." He took her hand in his and made her shake with him. "I want to introduce you to _Jesse_ . The guy who's nuts about you--no." He shook his head again, looking down briefly before connecting his eyes with hers in the most earnestly besotted gaze she'd ever _seen_ , let alone been the subject of. "The guy who's in love with you, and falling even deeper into that mad kind of love every day--the kind that makes people do crazy things, like write letters in the sky and propose on cruise ships and write musicals and kill their twin for." Rachel laughed, and he smiled wide. "This Jesse, the one standing here, the one you've been hanging out with for the past week--god, it's only been a week, can you believe it? _This_ Jesse. The guy who would _never_ hurt you."

Rachel stared, stunned at this completely unexpected declaration. She breathed deeply, sniffling almost, and fell into his arms as he smiled lovingly at her. He smoothed her hair, and she felt his chin resting against the side of her head.

It was something else she's noticed about them in the last few days--they had the perfect height ratio. It wasn't like hugging Finn, who could basically wrap all the way around her and shroud her completely in his body. It was more comfortable, more evenly distributed. Jesse still had to bend down to kiss her, but it was easier, simpler. He only bent a little, rather than completely in half. It was nice.

Rachel buried her face in Jesse's chest with a happy, relieved sigh.

"My team found out about us," she said softly after a minute. He pulled away just a little, and she looked up at him. Her eyes fluttered gently as he tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "They said--" She stopped, choked up.

"What?" he said quietly. "Did they hurt you? Was it--"

"They said that if I didn't break up with you, I was out," she blurted.

"They can't kick you out."

"Exactly what I said." Rachel laughed wetly. "They said that they were going to threaten to quit so Mr. Schue would kick me out. He could do it."

"They'd do that? Seriously?" Jesse scoffed. "Your team kinda sucks, Rach. They can't honestly expect to win without you."

"Kurt's response was, quote, 'Everyone is replaceable. Even you.'" She shook her head, still in shock. "I just don't know _why_ they're doing this. I thought the four of them, of all people, would side with me. We were the original members, you know," she told him, stepping back and turning to pace a little.

"Before the football players, before the Cheerios--before Finn, even--we were the first. I _made_ that club. _I'm_ the one who got Sandy Ryerson fired, which was the whole reason Glee Club was really _revived_ from a stool choir. _I'm_ the one who gave Mr. Schue the motivation to find a male lead. _I'm_ the one who came up with a ballad on the fly at Sectionals. _I'm_ the one who supported Finn and Quinn and Noah and the baby all throughout the beginning. And did they ever _once_ thank me? Of course not. No, they just called me _selfish_ , a _poor sport_ , and _whiny_."

Rachel threw her hands up, looking at him.

"Jesse, I do not _whine_ . I complain, yes, when I don't get what I've _earned_ , but if someone else truly deserves something more than I do, they can take it from me, no hard feelings. Like with Mercedes--the ballad we had originally planned, the one that was stolen, it was supposed to be hers. She sang it in club one day, and I just knew it should be hers, that this was her time to shine."

Rachel sighed, running a hand through her hair as she tipped her head back to stare at the ceiling. She felt Jesse's hands on her hips again--not pulling or pushing, just holding her as she vented.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to _do_ , Jesse," she whispered as she finally looked back at him. Her eyes were wet, but _he_ was perfectly stoic, his face carefully blank and clear as he gently ran his fingers through her hair in a comforting gesture. "I don't want to keep us a secret. It's the last thing I want. But if I don't, if they find out we're dating, there won't be a Glee Club there for me. I'll be booted for sure. I don't know what I'll do if I can't perform, Jesse."

"Maybe you _should_ keep us a secret," he said softly. "I'd understand."

(His gaze flickered from her devastated face, landing briefly on his coach as she stood in the shadows near the stage. The woman was frowning, her gaze questioning, and he tilted his head in a silent answer. _We need to talk_. She nodded, disappearing once more.)

Rachel was hesitating, looking at his chest instead of his eyes. "I can't ask that of you. And I can't ask that of myself, either." She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I just wish there was a way I could perform--a way I could be on stage, singing and dancing like I've always loved to do--and still have you." Her lips tilted in a smile. "But if this thing between us is going like I think it is, like you _said_ it was, earlier, then I think...I think I'd rather just have you. Even if they abandon me, even if we can't compete in Regionals...I don't want to have that resentment in me, or have to lie about us. It's not like I won't still have other clubs, other options. I have other things going for me. Having you...it would make me happy. Happier than I ever would be, competing with people who want to run my life."

He beamed down at her, then swept her up into a kiss. It was a real movie kiss, and Rachel's heart soared and fluttered and sang and a hundred other things she didn't know it could do, that it had never done with Finn or Noah.

When they broke away, their foreheads leaning against each other, Jesse was still smiling. "If you lived in the district, I would say you could come to Carmel."

"And be in Vocal Adrenaline?" she asked slowly. He nodded, and she sighed, her eyes closing once again. "That would be really nice. But I don't live here. If I did...I'd definitely take you up on it."

Jesse hummed, pulling away with a mischievous look. He kissed her again before separating them completely and backing toward the door leading backstage. "Stay right there," he warned. "Don't move. I'll be back in a minute--I just need to talk to someone. Then we'll go to dinner, okay?"

Rachel nodded, uncertain, watching him disappear.

And she didn't--move, that is. For about a minute. Then she shifted onto her other foot and stayed still for another forty seconds. After about the three-minute mark, she moved to the risers, taking a seat. By five minutes, she had her phone in her hand, looking at sheet music online and humming the chorus for _Hello, Goodbye_.

Ten minutes passed, and her ears finally registered voices. They were indistinct, muffled. Definitely loud enough for her to hear, but they must have been in one of the offices backstage. Which meant they were yelling.

(The conversation went _something_ like this, but with a bit more flair and attitude, and a _lot_ more yelling:

"She deserves to know _now_ ," Jesse growled at his coach.

Shelby shook her head. "I'm not ready. _She's_ not ready. It's not the right time."

"You're scared," he bit out. "You're just _scared_ , because you left her, and now she's grown, and you don't think you can be like a real mother to her."

"Because I _can't_ be!" Shelby screamed. "She's too old! Yes, I want to meet her, be her friend, but it's not the right time!"

"Will the right time be after Regionals?" he challenged. "Or maybe before then, making her think she was just a pawn to get under the competition's skin? Or maybe--maybe you'll just wait until she's eighteen, losing the last years you have to make a real impression on her because you're a coward!"

"You shut up right now, St. James! You don't get to say a damn thing about her! You've been playing her, this last week. Schuester came to me earlier this week, asking if you were spying for us. I told him no, that you were just a good kid. But now I'm sure you _are_ just using her."

"So what? That might-- _might--_ have been the case at first. I thought it would be good, acting like I liked her, pretending to be _so_ in _love_ with her."

He shook his head, clenching his teeth around another scream as he thought, _God, if she followed me, this is going to be just another movie scene. She'll leave me_. So he continued, speaking even louder, as if that would get his point across.

"But it wasn't even twenty-four hours before I realized I wasn't _acting_ anymore! God, I must really just be cut out for method acting, because this is ridiculous. So stupid--I fell for her! I wouldn't _want_ to hurt her now. She'll break my heart first--and it wouldn't be hard!"

"Why do want to tell her about me so badly for, anyway?"

"Because she's in trouble!" he hollered. "There! Are you _happy_?"

"What kind of trouble?"

He sighed, flopping against the wall. "Her team found out about us, and they want one of two things to happen. Option A, she breaks up with me, and we go to Regionals, and then go from there. Not the best option, but one I would have been fine with. Rachel, not so much. They knew that, which is why they gave her the second option, which would be default if she didn't immediately choose the first. Option B is she _stays_ with me against their wishes, and she gets kicked out."

"They can't kick her out, she's the star," Shelby said defensively. "Besides, you have to have an adult for those decisions."

"Which is where the second part comes into play. Rachel said the the same thing, and their response was that they would just go to their administrator--because he's not a coach, not really--"

"Oh, I know all about Will Schuester. Go on."

"Well, then they'd go to him and threaten to quit unless he booted Rachel." He huffed. "This, of course, has two outcomes. The first, given what Rachel has told me, is more likely--he kicks Rachel out, they find a shadow of a replacement that cannot possibly hope to fill her shoes, we all go to Regionals, and ND loses miserably. The second is less likely--he may decide that they simply can't win without Rachel, keep her, and let anyone else quit if they want. Some _might_ stay, claiming a bluff, but there will be a blow to their numbers, and given how theatre kids are treated at that school, it's not likely they'll have enough members to compete in Regionals."

"Why doesn't she just tell them she broke up with you and keep it a secret?" Shelby asked, her arms crossed.

"She says it would be unfair to both of us." Jesse laughed wryly. "She even said she'd rather just have me than have a team against her and our relationship in secret." He shook his head, saying, "I told her she wouldn't have any problems like she has in ND if she were here, at Carmel, with VA. The only problem is that she doesn't live here. She lives in Lima, with her dads." He paused, thinking. "Though they're never home, anyway. Just once every few months." Jesse shrugged. "If she knew who you were, if you two met, I'm sure--positive, even--that it wouldn't take much to get her and her dads to agree to move her in with you. Then you could bond or whatever and she could have a _healthy_ high-school-slash-show-choir experience."

Shelby was silent for a full three minutes before deflating with a sigh.

"I _can't_ approach her," she said finally. "Rachel _has_ to come to me. She has to walk right up to me, look at me. She has to say my name and her name and tell me she's my daughter. I'm legally bound--I can't do anything before _she_ comes to _me_."

Jesse nodded, heading for the door. "I can do that.")

Eight additional minutes, and Rachel was just standing up to investigate when the yelling cut off. She froze in place, standing still.

Fourteen minutes passed as she stood, waiting for something--for Jesse to appear to take her to dinner, for the yelling to pick up again, for the spotlight to turn on mysteriously again. _Anything_.

And then, just as she was about to move toward the stairs, she heard a different sound. Footsteps. Two sets of heels, actually. The first pair was Jesse's--sharp, heavy, masculine, definitely designer boots. The second pair seemed softer, but at the same time precise, like the clicking of a pen. Stilettos, which meant it was a woman.

Jesse got to her first. The second pair of footsteps stopped farther away--maybe even at the other end of the hall, it was hard to tell.

The boy stood in front of Rachel, smiling gently down at her as he took both of her hands in his. "Okay, Rachel," he murmured. "I want you to close your eyes."

"Why?" she asked suspiciously.

"Just do it."

"Jesse, you're kind of scaring me right now."

He sighed, rolling his eyes a little. "It's okay, Rach. I promise, nothing bad. Just--an exercise. Yeah. Just close your eyes and breathe for a minute."

She did as he asked, still slightly apprehensive. "Okay," she said slowly. "Eyes are closed. Now what?"

"Now, I want you to think really hard. Look way inside your pretty little head."

Rachel snorted, but humored him. "Okay. What exactly am I looking for?"

"Something important," he guided. His hands slipped from her hands to her wrists before sliding up to her shoulders. "Something you've always wanted, but never had. The one thing that would make you _whole_ in life. It's not true love--not me--and it's not Glee Club. It's not Broadway, and it isn't fame." She heard him sigh heavily. "Just breathe slowly, think about it for a minute. Look for it. Remember what it is. Remember how important it used to be to you--or how important it is now, but you've just set it aside for too long to realize it. When you lie awake at night, when you can't sleep no matter what you do, what's missing? What's missing from your life, your soul?"

Rachel let her mind wander, unfocused. _What is this?_ she asked herself. _What is he doing? There isn't anything missing in my life. There isn't anything I want more than friends, romance, fame...I don't know of anything I_ need _to feel_ whole-- _is that not norm--_

"Oh," she gasped quietly, frowning.

She could hear Jesse's smile as he spoke. "Did you find it?"

"I think so."

"What is it, Rach?" he whispered, his lips at her ear.

Rachel opened her eyes slowly, a soft smile on her lips and her gaze still tilted slightly downward. "My mom," she murmured.

Jesse tilted her chin up with a wide smile. "Your mom?" he clarified.

"Yeah. My mom. I never met her--she left the day I was born."

"So you want to meet her?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'd like to know who she _is_. Even if we never connect like we should...I'd like to just know her name, if she's successful. Just one thing about her would be huge."

Jesse was beaming by the time she finished, and he hugged her tight. "Your mom's name is Shelby Corcoran," he whispered in her ear. She jerked, but he her tight. "Shh, shh. Don't move just yet. Let it sink in." One of his hands rubbed her back soothingly. "You need to listen to me really, _really_ carefully right now. Okay?"

Rachel nodded against his shoulder, her hands digging into his shirt lightly. "Okay," she mumbled, still slightly terrified and more than a little shocked.

Jesse's breath fanned across her temple as he sighed. "I lied to you. Not now," he added quickly when she jumped. "I'm telling you the truth right now, I swear. Just listen." She nodded against him again, and he continued. "That day, last week, when we met for the first time? I knew who you were. Well, that's not exactly true, either, is it?" He huffed a laugh. "I knew who I _thought_ you were, the girl I assumed you were when I saw you at Sectionals. And yes--my sole purpose of starting that conversation was to make you nervous. But--but you surprised me. You bit back, you didn't just fall into it. I admit, though...even if you had, I probably would have felt exactly the same after that first meeting, because the thing that really drew me to you, made me want to see you again, wasn't that you doubted me or because you sassed me right back. It was the way we sang together. I've never felt that way, I've never felt that kind of--of peacefulness, of equality, singing with anyone else. Ever. We make beautiful music together, Rach. And I think that surprised me into falling in love."

Rachel sniffed. "Okay," she repeated. "So you started to talk to me to mess with me. I already kind of thought that. But then you--you actually liked me. So we started going out, like, for real. What--what does that have t--to do with...my mom?"

"Shelby found out," he murmured. "She never really told me how, but it was before our date on Friday. I think she might have spies in the music store." That startled a laugh out of her, high-pitched and a bit damp. "Anyway, she told me to _befriend_ you--yes, she used that word, as if she didn't know that I would have taken it to mean _seduce_. At first, I assumed it was because she wanted me to break your heart, break your team. But then she told me she was your mom, that she wanted to meet you."

"Why doesn't she just come and tell me?"

"She can't."

"Why not?"

Jesse sighed deeply. "I don't really understand it. But it's, like--legal stuff. She became a surrogate for your dads so that she had money to launch her career. She went to New York, became an actress, won a lot of awards just like you will someday."

He smiled against her temple when she let out a sniffling giggle.

"She moved here earlier this year, after she realized she wasn't living outside of work. She never got married, and she can't have any more kids," he continued. "And she signed a contract with your dads. She can't contact you legally until you're eighteen." He breathed deeply, holding her just a bit tighter for a split second before letting her go. "You have to go to her."

Rachel glanced toward the doorway. "I have to go to her," she said slowly, questioning.

"For it to be legal, yes." Jesse nodded. "She can't approach you as your mother until you approach her as her daughter." He turned so he was behind her, giving her a nudge. "She's right down the hall. Pretty sure there are cameras in here, so you have to actually say the words. Just in case."

"Are you, like, playing me?" she asked bluntly. "This can _not_ be this simple."

"If you don't believe me, just go find out for yourself."

So she did.

Rachel walked carefully through the door and down the hall, turning back only once to raise a brow at Jesse as he gave her a thumbs-up. Her slippers made a sliding, scratchy noise against the hardwood floor.

As she neared the end of the hall, she caught sight of the Vocal Adrenaline coach.

"Miss Corcoran? Shelby?" Rachel called gently. The woman looked at her expectantly. "M--My name is...My name is Rachel Berry." She cleared her throat. "I think--Well...I'm--I'm your daughter."

And Shelby smiled and walked over to her and suddenly she was being wrapped in long arms.

"I know, sweetheart. I know." The woman pulled away just enough to look at her, smiling. "I think we should call your dads."


	4. Chapter 4

"So, how are you feeling?"

Rachel breathed an incredulous laugh. It crackled across the line and through the receiver. "I don't even know," she confided.

Jesse smiled. "It's a lot to take in. Sorry I couldn't be there today."

Any other time, Jesse would have gladly driven out to Lima. Rachel needed him, he knew, to be there for her, supporting her. It was the same way he felt about her--now that he had her, for however short a time it had been, he didn't want to let her go. He wanted her there for everything, and it killed him that she couldn't be, that in six months' time he would be more than seven hours away by plane for months at a time. He wanted them to be together all the time, forever, but this was too personal. She had to do it alone--he couldn't interfere, or everything could tumble down. And he cared about her, about this going well...far too much to let it all go bad over him.

Rachel had a meeting with her parents--all three of them--and a lawyer to determine the legality of her situation. After meeting her daughter for the first time yesterday, Shelby had told both of them that she was sure everything would be okay. And once the legal stuff was through, Rachel would need to ask her dads the real question of the day.

"I'm scared, Jesse."

At her broken whisper, he bolted up from the floor of his studio, abandoning his stretches in favor of moving the phone to a more comfortable position.

"Hey, hey," he soothed. "It's going to be okay."

"We just got out from talking to the lawyers," Rachel said quietly. "They said since I came to her with the information already in my possession--no matter how I came upon it--there wasn't any legal action they could take against Shelby." She breathed deeply, steadying herself. "Now I have to tell them about the other stuff."

"Start simple," Jesse advised. "They already know about the slushies, right? Start there, explain how it's gotten better but it's still there. Then talk about how you made new friends in ND, but how they don't really appreciate your talent."

She hesitated, and he imagined she was biting her lip and shuffling her feet. It was one of those things she did when she was holding back.

"Rachel?" He shifted the phone to his other shoulder, standing. "Your dads know better than anyone--even me--that you're destined to be a star. They won't let you be bullied into submission. If--"

"I think they'll agree to give Shelby partial guardianship," Rachel said suddenly. She spoke quickly. "I mean, I think. They know how much I wanted to meet my mom, they know how important it is to me. They knew before I did, I think," she said with a laugh. "So I'm not worried about that."

"Then what is it?"

"What if she doesn't like me?" It was barely a breath, and Jesse had to concentrate to hear her. "I mean, she likes me now, yes--she thinks I'm talented and she wants to know me because she didn't get to when I was a baby...She likes me  _ now _ . But what if--what if I move in with her, audition for VA, and then we're spending practically all day every day with each other, and she realizes all the crazy things about me. I mean, I'm a kosher vegan, I take supplements so I don't get sick even though I've never had more than a sniffle, I organize my music by genre then sub-genre then artist then title. I have every book ever written on Barbra, I post to MySpace at least once a week even though I get terrible reviews. I have to have everything in the kitchen organized exactly how I want, I fold my sheets inside out in the linen closet because I hate having creases on the outside. I--"

"Woah, woah, woah," Jesse interrupted, laughing. "Calm down, Rachel. Breathe. Just breathe. In...and out."

He waited until she seemed calmer before continuing. "Okay, first of all, most of the music stuff--the organizing, the Barbra, the singing on MySpace--she won't care about. She'll probably support it, even, because I know for a fact that she loves Barbra almost as much as you do, and she's crazy about organization. The supplements will probably be fine, because she understands better than almost anyone how important it is to be healthy every moment of every day."

She sniffled on the other end, and he sighed. "All that other stuff is just stuff you'll have to work out. It's just like living with a roommate--you work around each other. It  _ will _ be okay," he said seriously.

Rachel took a few breaths. "Okay," she said finally.

"Okay?" he asked with a grin.

She laughed, still a little shaky. "Okay. We'll work on it."

* * *

"Alright, guys," Mr. Schuester announced. "Does anyone have a  _ Hello  _ song they wanted to show us before we move on to the group--"

Rachel raised her hand. "Actually, Mr. Schuester," she said loudly. "I have something to say before you begin."

Her teacher's brow raised. "Sure, Rachel." He gestured to the front of the room. "The floor is yours."

She stepped into the center, facing the rest of the room. "First of all, I just wanted to say that this club is very important to me--one of the most important things in my life, lately. I've loved working here, getting to know everyone." She smiled softly. "Some of you have been better friends to me than others, and better friends than I ever would have expected." She looked at Noah, Mike, Matt, Tina, and Brittany. "Though you are sometimes blunt, and don't always appreciate when I'm just trying to help, you've supported me more than others. You've appreciated that I am the best, and  _ I _ appreciate  _ that _ . Thank you." She looked forward. " _ Some  _ of you have treated me terribly, but I can't blame you for that. I understand, and I forgive you."

Mr. Schue looked concerned and confused. "Rachel?"

"Please, Mr. Schuester," Rachel pleaded. "Allow me to finish." She cleared her throat gently. "Now, it has come to my attention that some of you are attempting to force me out based on my relationship with Jesse. I honestly can't blame you for that, either. I do, however, need to ask--were you  _ truly _ serious about your ultimatum?"

"Yes," Kurt said automatically.

"Wait, what?" Noah asked, looking between them. "Berry, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Last week, I began dating Jesse St. James, leader of Vocal Adrenaline. I made the mistake of telling Finn, who told the rest of the original team. Including Mr. Schuester, who went to talk to the coach of their team, Shelby Corcoran. The other four original members of New Directions interrogated me. They issued an ultimatum to me--break up with the boy who could potentially be the love of my life, or I was out. They said they would all quit if Mr. Schuester didn't kick me out, which would mean the end of the team, either way."

"What the hell is wrong with you guys?!" Noah yelled. "Berry literally makes me want to set myself on fire ninety-nine percent of the time she opens her mouth, but she's, like, our only chance at Regionals!"

"She's dating the enemy!" Finn shouted back, defensive. "How is that okay?"

"Boys," Rachel snapped. "I'm  _ speaking _ ." They went silent, and she sighed heavily. "Now, I realize that, although I am  _ clearly _ the best singer on the team--thank you for the compliment, Noah--I could easily be removed and then replaced. So, I'm taking it out of your hands."

She walked over to the door, opening it and peeking out. "Anna, come in, please."

"Rachel,  _ what  _ are you doing?" Quinn said angrily.

"Quinn, I've had enough of people questioning me right now, please be quiet." She led the new girl to the center of the room, gesturing to her. "Everyone, this is Anna Jones. She's a sophomore, like most of us."

The girl--petite, though taller than Rachel, with curly brown hair and bright green eyes--waved cheerily. "It's so nice to meet you guys!" she chirped. "I would have auditioned earlier this year, but I just moved here last week."

"You're hot," Noah said bluntly, winking.

"Noah," Rachel scolded as the girl next to her blushed. She sighed, exasperated. "Anna, sing us a song. Just part of one, we just need to gauge your talent. Though I already know you're amazing."

And sure enough, when she belted out the first two verses to  _ Because of You _ , everyone could just tell she would be one of their best. Rachel looked more than proud.

"Now that we've heard her, I assume she's in?" Everyone nodded in agreement, albeit tentatively. "Good. She'll be Santana's replacement."

"Wait, say what?" the Latina said, startled from inspecting her nails. "Oh,  _ hell _ no, you're not kicking  _ me  _ out, you psycho, back-stabbing midget!" And then she started cursing in Spanish, halfway out of her seat, and Noah had to hold her down.

"Santana!" Rachel shouted. "If you would  _ listen _ , you would see I'm trying to  _ help  _ you. I'm not kicking you out--I can't."

"Rach, you're not making any sense," Noah spat.

"I'm leaving," she stated.

As if a blanket had fallen over them, silence came over the group in front of her. Everyone sat back in stunned silence, wide-eyed. Even Santana fell back into her seat with a heavy  _ thunk. _

"Yes, I'm leaving. I cannot remain in this oppressive environment. However, because I cannot control my loyal feelings, against my better judgment--which screams at me to abandon you without a backup, as you were so wont to do had I gone against your wishes--I've brought Anna in so that you can still compete. As I said, she will replace Santana."

Rachel smiled at the Latina. "I'm giving you my position. It has come to my attention that I am as close to a lead singer--specifically female lead singer--as this group has, as well as being co-captain. And the rules stipulate that the lead can name their replacement, so long as they leave willingly and are not forced out."

Rachel turned to her teacher. "Now, seeing as Finn was officially my partner, and I will no longer be here, I suggest replacing him with Noah." She waved her hand vaguely, saying, "It's your decision, but Noah's voice blends well with Santana's. It does with anyone, really." She sent a smile toward her fellow Jew. "He's a wonderful singer and performer. But, ultimately, it's up to you. No matter your decision, the fact stands that I am leaving, and I  _ will not _ be coming back."

Everyone just stared at her, still stunned.

Noah was first to speak, smirking as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed over his chest. "Good for you, Rach. Fight the power."

Mike and Matt gave her the thumbs-up. "Good luck, Barbra," they said simultaneously.

Brittany ran up to give her a hug. "I bet he gives really good oral, singing so much," she said bluntly. Rachel blushed, stammering a little, and Brittany pat her on the head. "You're so small," she said quietly before walking back to her seat.

Rachel looked at the others, but they still seemed too shocked to react. She looked at Mr. Schuester. "I will not be coming back to Glee Club. I've found my biological mother--she happens to be Shelby Corcoran--and my dads have agreed to let me live with her so that I'm in Carmel's district. Please accept my formal resignation, and be sure to respect my wishes when it comes to Santana and Anna, if only because it's the rules."

Grabbing her bag and swinging it over her shoulder, she reached over to shake hands with Mike, Matt, and Santana. Then she hugged Noah gently. Lastly, she pat Anna on the shoulder, sharing a smile with her.

She went to the door. Before exiting, she looked at them all one last time. "Good luck," she said.

Her smile was wicked.

"I'll see you at Regionals."


	5. Chapter 5

"Um, hi, it's my first day," a nervous voice said beside him. "Can you help me find the Biology classroom?"

Jesse looked over from his locker, smiling. "Rachel." He leaned down to hug her tight. "You made it!"

She squealed when he picked her up and spun her around right there in the middle of the busy hallway. "Jesse!" she shrieked. "Put me down!"

He just laughed, stopping but not letting her go even a little bit. "How did things go? With your dads, and ND?"

"My dads were great. They agreed that kids our age shouldn't be giving ultimatums, and that the McKinley environment just wasn't helpful." Rachel looked up at him with a smile. "They didn't even really care that I met my mom before I was supposed to. It didn't take fifteen minutes to get them to let me go."

"And ND?"

She sighed, laying her forehead on his shoulder and closing her eyes. "They were mostly just shocked. The ones who could actually speak were largely supportive." She snorted, blushing. "Brittany said some suggestive things, but they were still supportive. Noah was happy for me, which was nice."

"I think I should meet this  _ fellow Jew  _ of yours," Jesse joked. "He seems like an anomaly. And possible competition."

"Never competition," Rachel assured him quietly. "Maybe I'll introduce you at Regionals." She laughed. "Anyway, I named Santana as my replacement--the Latina--and brought in a new girl to replace Santana."

"You didn't have to do that," he murmured. "Not with how they treated you."

"I know, but..." She shook her head. "It doesn't matter, anyway. We're going to beat them at Regionals either way--might as well make it interesting."

His laugh was loud in her ear, and his arms tightened ever further. "I like the confidence. Why so sure?"

She shrugged. "VA has both of us now. Santana, Mercedes, Quinn, and the new girl Anna--they're good, better than good. But they aren't me, and everyone knows it. And us together...we're  _ going _ to take VA all the way, and get you that fourth Nationals trophy."

She looked up at him from the corner of her eye. "We--" Her throat constricted, and she swallowed shallowly. "We  _ are  _ still...together, right? It won't change, now that I'm not competition? Now that it'll be easier?"

Jesse pulled away, tucking her hair behind her ear. His smile was gentle, his eyes soft. "Together," he hummed, and he leaned in to kiss her. When they pulled away, he cleared his throat. "I should tell you...I turned down my UCLA scholarship."

Rachel gasped. "What? Why would you do that?"

His thumb stroked along her cheek. "I applied to NYADA instead. I mean...New York is the dream, right?" He shrugged. "It'll be easier to get on Broadway if I'm already in the city. And...I'm hoping a certain girl will join me." His smile widened. "Maybe you know her. She's Jewish, gorgeous, smart, ridiculously talented. She reminds me of a young Barbra Streisand, or maybe Patti LuPone. She wears cute kitten sweaters and only eats vegan, and she's destined for the bright lights of Broadway. Oh, and she's totally, completely, madly in love with me, Jesse St. James."

She hummed, pretending to think. "She  _ sounds  _ familiar...Does she have a name?"

"Oh, yeah, she's got a name. It's gonna be on all the playbills and billboards and signs within...hmm, four years. Probably less. Hopefully next to mine, but beggars can't be choosers, I suppose." He paused for a moment, just smiling. "It's  _ Rachel Berry _ ."

"Hey, that's my name!" she gasped, laughing.

"So what do you say, Rach?" Jesse murmured. "Join me in New York, after high school?"

Rachel smiled sweetly. "I'd love to."

* * *

"Are you nervous?"

Rachel jumped, turning. "Oh, hey, Andi," she greeted. They'd been introduced earlier in the day--formally, this time, and less vomit-filled. "You're early."

She shrugged, grinning. "So are you," she observed.

"I had a free block at the end of the day."

"You didn't answer my question."

The shorter girl frowned. "...A little," she admitted. "I mean...I know I'm good, and I know Jesse and Shelby think I'm good enough to be female lead, but...I'm worried about everyone else."

Andi touched her arm softly. "Hey, you've got my vote," she told her. She smiled, bouncing over to the sound system. "We've still got twenty minutes before everyone else gets here. Want to do a warm-up with me? I'll show you the dance moves for one of our songs."

"Sure," Rachel agreed easily, following her and looking at the list over her shoulder. She raised a brow. "These are good songs."

"Right? We usually all suggest one song--some of us give two or three--for different performances throughout the year. Both competition and otherwise, since we do a lot of impromptu shows." She pointed to a few. " _ Signed, Sealed, Delivered (I'm Yours)  _ was my idea,  _ Do You Know What I Mean  _ is Emil's.  _ Stuck in the Middle with You  _ is all Chris."

Andi laughed, pointing to the bottom section. "Jesse has, like, ten. He always does.  _ Come See About Me _ \--the cover version, for a guy, we did it at the Fall Invitational, along with  _ Rehab  _ and  _ Anything Goes.  _ Let's see... he's got _ Burning Up _ by Madonna, he added that one a couple days ago, I think.  _ Easy Lovin' _ ,  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ ,  _ Barracuda _ ,  _ Highway to Hell _ \--we did that last week-- _ It's Still Rock and Roll to Me _ ,  _ Heard It Through the Grapevine _ ,  _ Under Pressure _ ..."

Rachel laughed. "Does he just name every classic rock song, hoping one gets picked?"

"Yes," Andi deadpanned. "That is absolutely exactly what he does. It's cute." She hummed. "Let's go with...Izzy's song.  _ Ain't No Other Man _ ." She gave Rachel a look. "You know it?"

She nodded. "By heart."

"Good. You take lead. I'll do the moves, you try to copy. Okay?"

"Sure."

The two of them went to center stage, and Andi pressed play.

Dancing like this, just the two of them, felt more relaxed than she ever felt with ND, despite their laid-back attitude. She took comfort in the precise steps, the exact nature of the routine. It was fun, but professional. It wasn't hard to maintain a show-face as she floated along with her new friend.

By the end of the second run, both were breathing heavily, but they were also laughing.

"That was great!" Andi gasped. "I don't think I've ever seen anyone pick moves up that fast."

"I've been dancing since I was three," Rachel explained. She took long, steadying breaths. "Plus, on my old team, we were always doing stupid assignments, and we had to learn random routines in under forty-eight hours." She shrugged. "I guess I got used to it after the first month. And at our Sectionals, we had our set-list stolen last-minute, so we had to learn a whole new one in less than an hour. Pretty much impromptu dance moves, that time."

"Wow, that's--"

Whatever Andi was going to say was cut off by the sound of footsteps approaching. Rachel's head whipped in that direction, and she went to get her water bottle.

Jesse and Shelby arrived in the theatre first, side-by-side as they discussed something or other. Chris, Emil, Shoshandra, and Giselle were right behind them, and the rest of the team filed in after them.

"Rachel? Andrea?" Shelby said, cutting Jesse off from what he was saying. "What are you two doing up there?"

Rachel smiled cutely, twiddling her water between her hands. "Um...nothing?" she asked innocently. Shelby crossed her arms, and she sighed. " _ Okay _ , Andi was showing me one of the routines. As a warm-up before the audition?"

"Which song?" Jesse asked.

Rachel's eyes flickered behind him briefly to Giselle. " _ Ain't No Other Man _ . It was fun."

"She's a natural, Coach," Andi chirped. "Picked it up after one run-through."

Jesse looked taken aback. "That's one of the more difficult routines, right up there with our  _ Bohemian Rhapsody _ routine. Giselle designed it that way, to give us an edge if we ever used it."

Rachel glared at Andi accusingly. Her hands went to her hips. "I didn't know that." She shrugged. "It seemed simple enough."

Andi grinned sheepishly. "I wanted to see what you were made of? But, like, you passed  _ my  _ inspection, so...congratulations. I officially approve of you--both as lead and as Jesse's girlfriend." Her expression turned serious. "And I'm his best friend, so, if you failed...sorry, sister, you'd be out." She beamed, clapping her hands cheerily. "But you passed! Yay!"

There were mumbles among the rest of the team, and Rachel was pretty sure she saw two or three of them recording the whole thing.

Giselle scoffed. "No way," she spat. "No one is  _ that  _ good."

"Because you're not?" Rachel blurted unthinkingly.

Her face heated as everyone fell silent. "I--I mean...Not to be rude or--or disrespectful, I respect your singing as very good--amazing, really--and worthy of a female lead. But...I've seen every VA performance in the last four years. Unlike my former teammates, I've always taken competition very seriously. And VA is as close to perfect as any team can be--probably why you've won seven years straight. But as perfect as you are, there are mistakes I've seen in  _ you _ , specifically--Jesse, too, but I've discussed that with him already, just as he has helped me the last two weeks."

Rachel breathed deeply, crossing her arms as if protecting herself. "I'm sorry, Giselle, and I truly mean no offense, but...Your footwork is sloppy, you constantly use hairography for no reason whenever you're leading, and any other time you're hanging off of Jesse or some other guy."

The other girl stomped her foot, trudging closer to the stage. "Listen here, rookie," she yelled. "You don't get to come in here and insult me before you're even a member!"

"Look, I already said I didn't mean any offense. I simply meant that you could easily be better if you worked a little harder. Be your own person on stage, work on your steps a little. Everyone knows that leads have to work at  _ least _ twice as hard as--"

"You must be really stupid," Giselle bit, climbing the stairs. "If you think you're so much better at footwork, why don't you show us, huh?" she taunted. Her voice was mocking. "Teach me your ways."

Rachel pursed her lips. "I wasn't issuing you a  _ challenge _ , Giselle. I have no interest in taking your spot unless I earn it through hard work."

"Well, then, this will just make the process go faster, won't it?"

"I haven't even auditioned for the regular team yet!" She threw her arms up, exasperated. "It's like working backwards!"

Somebody in the crowd snorted--Chris. "Just think of it as a Broadway audition, then," he called, shrugging. "That's where you want to be, right? Isn't it, like, a rule--that you audition for the lead, so that if you fall short you might still get another role?"

"Well, that's not exactly right--"

"There you go, midget," Giselle said, matter-of-fact. "Broadway audition."

"It doesn't work that way! You audition for the part that plays to your strengths--the best part for  _ you _ , not the best overall."

"But you think you're a stronger lead than me, don't you?" Giselle challenged. She crossed her arms over her chest. "That would make this 'the best part for you', wouldn't it? Hmm?"

"Uh..." She looked at the coach, wide-eyed. "M--Shelby?"

The woman stayed quiet, thinking, as everyone looked at her expectantly. Her fingers tapped across her upper arm, and her lips twisted curiously.

"I don't see a problem with it," she said finally, shrugging and taking a seat at the desk near the middle of the seats as the entire team cheered. "We'll need an audition song. Jesse?"

"Are you sure about this, Rach?" the boy asked.

The girl sighed, finishing her water and setting it aside. "I guess. Even if I don't get lead, I'll still be on the team, right?"

"That's right, Rachel," Shelby assured.

Jesse watched his girlfriend for a minute, silent. He turned to his coach. " _ You Can't Stop the Beat _ , from  _ Hairspray _ ."

"Movie or musical?"

He scoffed, dropping into the seat just behind her and to the left. "Movie--it's the only movie remake of a Broadway show that's better than Broadway."

"So true," Rachel said quietly. They'd had this discussion just a few days ago. She looked at Giselle. "You know the number?"

" _ Everyone _ knows that number," she said, her tone clipped. She shook herself out as a warm-up, stretching her legs and arms.

Rachel backed off, her hands raised in surrender. "Sorry." She rolled her shoulders, stepping into position. "How are we playing this, Coach?" she called. "Just dancing, or singing the song?"

"Both. Especially you. Prove you can handle it."

"Sure."

"Good luck," Jesse told them. "May the best lead win." He smirked.

* * *

"I cannot  _ believe  _ this!"

Her companions winced at her shrill tone. "She was better," Chris said. "She had the power, the steps, the--"

"Shut up! God, why did you all vote for  _ her _ ? You were supposed to be on  _ my  _ side!"

"The only  _ side  _ we're on is the side that will win us Regionals. Nationals," Andi chastised. "Why don't you just accept it, Izzy?"

Giselle growled, shoving the girl's shoulder. "Don't tell me to  _ accept _ anything!" she shrieked. "You've always been jealous of me--you wanted lead, I know, and if you can't have it, I guess you don't want me to get it, either, right?"

"I based my vote on who was better in this performance, not any--"

"I mean, I already knew I would lose Jesse's vote," Giselle interrupted with a scoff. "He is screwing the freak, after all. And Chris is his best friend, no matter what you think, and you're dating Chris, so it was a possibility that I would lose you two. But I honestly thought we had real friendship, Andi. Emil, Shoshandra. Alex? Miranda? Caleb? Johnny? What the hell?!"

"Giselle!" Everyone turned at Jesse's barking tone. The boy was standing in the door to the break room, his arms crossed and his stance defensive. "Don't play that game. Rachel beat you fair and square--there was no bias, no manipulation. You both performed the same routine, and she did it better. Simple as that."

Jesse stalked closer to Giselle until his eyes were an inch from hers. "And I don't like you insinuating those kinds of things about my girlfriend. Or me, for that matter." He shook his head slowly, his brow scrunched angrily. "Saying that she would sleep with someone just to get further in life? Come on, not everyone is like you." She gasped, and he grinned cruelly. "Oh, yeah, I know all about you and that dwarf Dakota. The point is, Rachel isn't like that. And I wouldn't like her if she was, because I'm not like that, either, and you  _ know  _ that."

He pushed past her, grabbing a sandwich for himself and a new water to give to Rachel. Before he left, he called behind him, "Rachel and I are having a dance-off onstage in an hour, if anyone else wants to join us." Then he was gone.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rachel and Jesse talk about sex but it's a lot more complicated than before.

Things were going unexpectedly well at Carmel--in Akron in general, really. Rachel suddenly had friends like she never had before, and it was nice, feeling like she belonged for once.

Her classes were the same as they had been at McKinley, but she ghosted through them like they were nothing. She'd always been smart, so it wasn't a surprise. She wasn't like Jesse, who never went to class, or Chris, who didn't try because there wasn't a chance he would pass this year (because Dakota had screwed him over, so he had to wait until the year rolled over to set it straight)--she worked hard in class, turned her work in on time always, and never missed a study hall.

Her last block was a free period, so she usually just headed to the auditorium early, getting in a bit more practice. It was easier to do with a partner, so she guessed she was lucky Jesse never seemed to leave the theatre. But they never really got to practicing, usually, so there was that.

Rachel was more than happy to find that Jesse still liked her, even when she was around all the time and easy to access. He'd told her he would, but she'd still worried.

They'd gone out every weekend the last three weeks, always something different, though it usually ended with some sort of make-out session, either in his car or in her new room at Shelby's if the woman was working late. Not that she really cared, anyway--Shelby knew Rachel had gotten The Talk from her dads over a year ago, and she knew that Rachel was all about safety--but it was still awkward to make out with your boyfriend with your mom downstairs.

It was almost a week after her transfer, and Jesse gave her a ride home from practice. They'd gotten off easy today. It was only eight, but Shelby had cut practice early so she could take time to rework one of the routines. She was staying at the school for a few more hours--Rachel would have to remember to give her a call so she didn't stay there all night.

"Do you want to come in?" she asked Jesse. "We could watch a movie."

"Sure," he agreed easily.

They barely made it to her room before he was pushing her against the wall, kissing her.

Okay, really, making out wasn't all they ever did. Of course not. They went to a concert just last week, and an arcade after that, where she won him a Care Bear. They got interrupted by a call from Shelby when they were on their way back home, so they'd spent the night dancing with VA instead of kissing in her room. A week before that, they spent the day volunteering together--they were a hot topic at the homeless shelter, since she was obviously the first girl to tame Jesse and his "ways", whatever that meant--before having dinner at his house. His parents weren't home, just like he said. (They never were.) But nothing happened besides some slow kissing before she left in her car.

She liked going slow with Jesse, having those romantic kissing sessions. But this kind--this erotic, hard, passionate kissing--this was nice, too.

Somehow, they ended up on her bed with him hovering over her. Jesse's lips caught the edge of her jaw on his way down to her throat. She gasped when his hand skimmed her side under her sweater, his palm searing. It turned to a quiet moan when he bit down gently on her neck.

"J--Jesse," Rachel breathed.

His hand stayed where it was, hovering over her ribs and just barely hitching her shirt up. His lips worried at the spot on her neck and sent tingles of electricity down her spine.

"Rachel," Jesse hummed.

Her eyes rolled up a little, and she dragged their lips back together with another groan. The hand not on her stomach snaked up her thigh and under her skirt, finding her hip. He hitched her leg up over his waist, one of his own legs already between hers.

Rachel gasped, breaking away. "Jesse, wait."

The boy just shifted, kissing along her jaw and down her throat. "Hmm?"

"Wait, we--we should cool down."

"Shh, it's okay, we don't need to do anything right now." He paused, nipping at her collarbone as one of his fingers caught on the edge of her bra. "I mean...we can. We should."

"What?"

"Do it." He pushed himself up so he was just over her, looking into her eyes. He stole another searing kiss, then pulled away again with hooded eyes.

Her eyes were a little glazed, but she managed to squeak out a question. "It?"

"Yeah," he murmured. "Haven't you..."

"No," she said quickly, even as his face disappeared back into her neck. "Ha--Have you?"

Jesse's laugh was light, breathy over her damp skin, and she shivered a little. "What do you think?" He kissed her jaw, making his way back up to her lips before circling down the other side of her throat. "It's not a big deal."

Rachel felt her head clear a little, and she stuttered, "F--For a girl it is..."

Jesse froze, looking up at her. "What does that mean?" he asked flatly, his brow scrunched incredulously. He shuffled, crawling off of her to sit up.

"I mean, it's just...permanent." She sat, too, curling in on herself against the sudden cold feeling in her gut. "For girls. It's like, the same for a guy, forever, or so I've heard. But girls..." Her gaze locked on him, and she felt her eyes tear up when she noticed his upset expression. "No, please, Jesse, don't be mad, I--I didn't mean that it--I didn't mean that it means _less_ , or that it wouldn't mean _anything_ , I--I love you." She coughed, choking on a few tears. "God, Jesse, I _love_ you, but I--I just...I just meant that..."

Rachel huffed in frustration, tugging her clothes into place as she stood and pulled at her hair in frustration. "It's a _stigma_ , for girls. It's not like that, for guys--there's no such thing as a real V-card for guys, and I _hate_ that and it's so _horrible_ that the whole world labels everybody based off of societal rules--and--and--"

A sob escaped her lips as she turned from the bed--from Jesse--and towards her dresser. "I _love_ you," she said, her voice cracking. "But I _can't_ . I'm not _ready_ , I'm _sorry_."

Jesse was silent for a long moment--it must have been forever, or so she thought--and then she heard the sound of cloth against cloth as he slid from her bed. She didn't turn around, still silently crying, and she could feel his hesitation heavy in the air.

Her bedroom door shut quietly, and she stiffened. There were footsteps on the stairs, and she heard the front door open and slam shut.

Rachel fell to the ground, sobbing into her knees.

* * *

She didn't know how long she stayed there, in her silent room, on the ground. It felt like a long time, it must have _been_ a long time, because her tears dried and she just felt really numb and useless.

It was actually five minutes and thirty-seven seconds.

She didn't know how long she sat there, but the next thing she was really aware of was the sound of a key in the lock of the front door. It opened, then shut, and then there were footsteps coming--running, no, _sprinting--_ up the stairs.

The door to her room opened, and Rachel didn't even look up. She didn't have the energy.

Someone came in and shut the door behind themselves. They put something on one of her other dressers, then dropped something onto her bed. Something metallic and something else heavy _thunk_ 'ed against her bedside table. When she heard her TV turn on and heard the beginning strands of one of her favorite musical movies, she couldn't resist looking up.

Her eyes landed on Jesse, standing in front of her. He bent, wiggling his hands under her arms and behind her knees to latch onto her waist. When he straightened, he pulled Rachel up with him, lifting her off of her feet easily and depositing her onto her bed.

"Jesse, what--"

"Shh," he whispered harshly, maneuvering her into a half-sitting position against the headboard.

Grabbing the blanket at the end of the bed--she vaguely recognized it as his own, the one she liked so much that day she'd gone to his house that he'd started keeping it in his car, just for her, in case she got cold when they went on an outdoor date--he threw it over her body. He wrapped her legs in the soft fabric and folded the top down so it rested tightly over her chest and under her arms.

"Here." He snatched the plastic cup from her bedside table, where it was resting next to his keys and another cup, and held it out to her. "I got you a vegan milkshake from that store down the road that you like. And I brought you all this stuff, because I know I like looking at it and I know you like some of it. And I know you love this movie, so I'm hoping it'll make you feel better or--or something."

Rachel took in the room slowly, her eyes catching on everything and nothing. She saw the TV, showing the main menu for a movie, one that she knew she loved but couldn't quite grasp the name of in her blank thoughts. She saw the end of her bed, his jacket tossed over one of the bed posts and another blanket folded over the comforter. She took in her dresser, littered with the little things they'd accumulated over the last month as a couple--his Care Bear, her bracelets from the ticket counter, the photo-booth photos, even that Lionel Richie book from the day they met.

And then she saw Jesse--just Jesse. Not cool, suave Jesse from the first day they met, not hot-and-heavy Jesse from just a little while ago, not male-lead Jesse from all the days in VA practice.

Just Jesse. Jesse, who'd bought her a new ice-pack for every day of the last week, because she'd had to get new dance shoes and they weren't broken in quite yet. Jesse, who took her to a stupid Wiggles concert last Friday, because he caught her laughing at a ridiculous video earlier in the week and wanted to hear her laugh like that again. Jesse, who kept romantic pictures of the two of them in his car so he didn't have to go more than ten minutes without seeing her face. Jesse, who was so enormously touched when she won him a Care Bear that he insisted they stay at the arcade until he could win her something shiny.

Jesse, who was standing at her bedside in his blue-jeans and grey t-shirt and no shoes, shifting from foot to foot and looking close to tears.

Rachel blinked, setting the shake aside and wiggling under the blanket. "Jesse," she murmured. "I don't understand." She patted the bed beside her. "Please tell me."

He rolled his shoulders, rounding the bed to climb in with her. Rachel rolled, loosening the quilt around her enough that she could get to him. She heard his breath catch slightly when she put her head on his chest, her arm over his stomach. One of his arms wrapped around her, his other hand settling on her wrist.

"I just," he started quietly, then stopped and started again. "I feel really bad about tonight. I shouldn't have...I shouldn't have made you think you..."

"I'm sorry, too," Rachel murmured into his chest. "I kind of--blew up. I didn't mean I don't... _want_ to." She peered up into his face. "Jesse, I _do_ , I just..."

"I know." Jesse kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry, still. It was a jerk move, just--saying that, and getting pissed when you said...But I get it. I get that it's different. I guess..." His body moved beneath her as he tried to get comfortable. "I guess I just wish you were my first, too."

"You asked me if I'd ever done it before."

"Because I'm honestly surprised you haven't. You're just..." He sighed. "You're just _special_ , Rach. I can't have been the first guy to realize that."

"I never--well, with Finn, we always broke up before we got past kissing," she said, huffing a laugh. "And I only dated Noah for a week, and it just felt... _wrong_ , letting him touch me. Nice, but wrong. And they were the only two I ever dated--I don't do one-night stands or seven minutes in heaven or...whatever, 'anything fun', I guess."

"And tonight?" Jesse whispered. "You didn't feel..."

"No," she said quickly, sitting up to hover over him. "No, Jesse, I _love_ you. It felt...really good, what we were doing. And then you said that, and--" She breathed through her nose, frustrated. "My mind got in the way, I guess, I just...freaked. And I shouldn't have said what I did, I'm--I'm sure that it was...um, well...for you, too, when you...and I didn't mean to--but I did, and I'm sorry, and I _want_ to, with you." Her hand laid on his chest, over his heart, and she focused on it instead of the chaos in her mind. "But not now."

"Rachel, I love you." She looked into his eyes, and he smiled softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. "I love you," he murmured again. "And that's--it's different, for me, feeling that way about anybody. I mean, I love me, obviously." Rachel snorted a laugh, and he grinned. "And I love my parents, and my siblings, even though they're never around. And I love my friends, even though half of them haven't been all that great lately. And Shelby is as close to a mother-figure as I've had in a long time, so I guess I love her, too, but you--god, Rach, it's like--"

Jesse bolted up suddenly, tipping her back. Rachel squawked when her head hit the blankets. "Jesse, what--"

"Shh," he said as he knelt between her knees.

"I don't--"

Jesse rolled his eyes, putting a hand to her cheek and using his other to support his weight as leaned over to make their eyes level. "Rachel Barbra Berry," he said seriously. "I love you. It's like--It's like all those musicals we both love, the ones we're gonna star in some day, hopefully...hopefully together. It's just like them. Insane and perfect and chaotic and incredible and frustrating and amazing. I'm _in_ love with you, and it's--it drives me crazy, all the time. I was really serious, that day you met Shelby, when I said I was falling so madly in love with you that it would drive me to do crazy things."

"Like propose, or write musicals, or kill your twin."

"Or write letters in the sky." Jesse smiled. "Well, I think it's pretty safe to say that I'm way past that. Rachel...I can wait. I _can_ , but I...I love you. And it's not just because of the kissing, though it's a nice bonus." He laughed. "You're _special_ , and _beautiful_ , and I love you for too many reasons to count, and I find another one every day, I swear. So I can wait, but I love you, and it would just be one more thing we did that I loved. But I can wait, because I love you, and I get that you don't want to go there yet, and I'm sorry if I ever make you feel like it's a be-all-end-all situation. Because it's not. I will never leave you. Ever. Especially not because of--of _this_ \--of something as stupid and ridiculous, something that doesn't _matter_ to me."

"But you want to."

"Of _course_ I want to," Jesse said, rolling his eyes like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "But not if you're going to hate me for it--not if you feel like I'm pressuring you. I want to because I love you, and you're beautiful, and it feels good--so good--to kiss you and...but I don't _care_ , Rachel. I _don't_ . I couldn't care less if you were _never_ ready--if we just spent all night every night goofing off, watching _Funny Girl_ and practicing for our inevitable debut on Broadway as Eva and Che."

Rachel laughed, her head thrown back. "Oh, god, Jess." She sniffed, looking back at him. "Seriously? Really?"

"Of course." He paused, his thumb continuing to move along her jaw. "I mean, it would be a real shame, if we _never_ did it...like...ever."

"Hmm, and why's that?"

"Because I plan on marrying you some day, Rach," he said, matter-of-fact, and she gasped. "And it would be a truly _tragic_ thing--really, a _crime_ against the _universe_ \--if we never had any kids."

Rachel tried, she really did. But she just couldn't keep it in any more, and she laughed and laughed until she'd pulled Jesse down on top of her and buried her face in his neck.

"Oh, god, Jesse," she wheezed out with a snort. "That's just--I don't--"

Her laughter was contagious, and soon enough Jesse was cackling right along with her. "Pretty good, huh?"

That just made her laugh harder, and it was a full five minutes before she could even breathe.

"Jesse," she breathed finally, still shaking with aftershocks of giggles. "You know, you're not--haha--you're not wrong. I mean, just think about it--two stars like us? Our kids would be, like--"

"Supernovas," Jesse agreed easily, sitting up. "Definitely."

They were both quiet for a minute, just breathing. The theme song for the movie was still going in the background, and the light from the TV and a bit of light from her bedside lamp was the only light in the room.

Rachel raked her fingers through Jesse's hair gently, combing through the curls absentmindedly.

Finally, she broke the silence with a quiet hum, her eyes detaching from his in favor of looking past him--over his shoulder. "Are you sure?"

"About waiting? I told you, I'm willing to wait as long as--"

"No, not the waiting," she said quickly. She still didn't look at him. "All the other stuff. Loving me, wanting to...be with me for forever. That stuff. I mean, we're in high school--as much as I love a good teen musical...I know that's not how real life works. So, if you don't mean it, if you aren't quite that serious...I'd understand. So...are you _sure_?"

"You don't believe me."

"I do," Rachel insisted. "I just said--"

"No, you don't," Jesse said, his voice sad. "Or you wouldn't be asking." He tilted her chin slightly to the side, forcing her eyes to his. "Rachel...be honest."

"I'm always honest with you." She pouted.

"Okay, then be honest _now_ ," he said easily. "Don't answer right away, just--just really think about it for a minute. What do you feel for me? When you look at me, when we're together--how do you feel?" Her mouth opened, but he shook his head with a wry smile and tilted it closed with a thumb under her chin. "Mm-mmm, just think about it." He looked over at the TV and sat up. "I think I'll get snacks from the kitchen. Crackers, popcorn...candy?"

Rachel nodded mutely as he slipped from the bed, her limbs falling limply against the covers without anything to hold on to. She heard his feet on the stairs, and rolled onto her stomach to gaze at the floor rather than the ceiling.

Her thoughts were chaotic as she tried to really think about what he asked.

Did Rachel love Jesse? She didn't even need to think about that--the answer was an automatic, resounding, absolute _yes_.

This was different from her short-lived off-and-on romance with Finn, where she thought they were meant to be in some backwards, fairy-tale, teen-drama-show way. And it wasn't based solely on looks and making out, like with Noah. And it definitely wasn't some silly schoolgirl crush like with Schuester--she shuddered thinking of it, even now--or anything like the brief, cutesy relationships she'd shared with boys in elementary and middle school, which barely carried any weight to them other than previously-arranged snacking times in the park or at the ice cream shop.

With Jesse, Rachel felt complete.

No, that's not right. It was more like...

She felt _better_.

He made her feel pretty and talented--she felt safe and happy when he was with her. Jesse was kind of a jerk, sometimes, and he was occasionally purposefully obtuse for no other reason than to be annoying, but he was always honest. Bitterly honest, a lot of the time. He just _got_ her, understood everything she was thinking before she even thought it. They were like the same person in two bodies. Driven, Broadway-bound, intent, passionate, talented, kind but not always nice, shining like stars...So many things Rachel was, Jesse was, too. He supported her in everything, even if he didn't understand it or quite approve of it, and it was all she could really ask for in love.

Rachel knew--just instinctively _knew_ , in her heart--that she supported Jesse just as much, that she did things for him that helped him be better. She insisted he study twice a week with her, she helped him defuse situations in rehearsal without blowing up like he used to, she helped him plan his career just as thoroughly as she had already planned her own. She gave him a new home, with her, and he knew he was always welcome wherever she was.

So what was holding her back? Did she not love him enough?

By the time he came back, snacks in hand, she knew.

Jesse smiled as he shut the door behind him, laying out the food at the end of the bed. Rachel pushed herself up and back so she was sitting cross-legged, her back against the headboard, She didn't look up at him, instead picking at a loose thread on her sleeve.

"I think we should start on this movie, right?" Jesse said brightly. "I don't know when Shel--"

"I almost slept with Finn."

It was barely a whisper, but it seemed loud in the quiet room, and just like that, Jesse was a statue.

"I almost slept with Finn," Rachel repeated slowly. "It was--it was when we dated, _really_ dated, for the first time. Or I thought it was real, but it really wasn't. I guess that means it was our second round, but that...The point is, I almost went through with it. And then we were kissing and it was like normal and it was nice and then we started going further and it--it just felt _wrong_ , doing it. It felt _horrible_ , and then _I_ felt horrible, and we stopped. And then the next week he broke it off--yet again, because of Quinn."

She laughed bitterly, tearing up again. "And then for the next week, all I could think, looking at him, was-- _I almost did it. God, what if I had, where would we be_ \--because I had so many theories. Would we have stayed together, if I'd gone through with it, given him what he obviously wanted? But then there were questions _there_ , even, really, because would he have stayed with me because he loved me or because he would have felt obligated to be with his first, or because _he_ was _my_ first. And then, after that phase of questioning, I kept thinking about the other possibility, which was just as bad--if I'd done it, if we'd...and then we'd still broken up, because it was my first real relationship and his second, and it was bound to happen. And it would have felt just as bad as having a relationship based on obligation, because I would know forever that I gave him something, that we gave each other something, that we couldn't ever get back, that _I_ could never get back. And it wouldn't _mean_ anything, because it wouldn't have changed a damn _thing_."

She startled at the curse coming from her lips, but powered through. "And I think that whole situation screwed me over," she said with a sighing kind of wet laugh. "Because now I have this guy--this great, perfect guy, perfect for me, at least. And he wants me for every part of me, not just one thing or the other at any given point in time. And he tells me he loves me at least twice every day and he's told me three times now exactly why and how much. And the real kicker--the worst, most heart-shattering part of this whole messed-up situation is that I love him, too."

Rachel sobbed, still not looking up even for a second. "I love him so much that I think I don't, sometimes, because it's such a ridiculous thing, to be so in love when I'm only sixteen. But I know it's real, and that means that I--I _know_ that my heart is gone, and I'll never really get it back, anyway, not ever. But I can't--I _can't_ do...I can't do it because all I know is that I almost did it, before, and if that turned out horribly how can I just assume that this won't, too? So I said I wanted to wait, even though I don't want to--because I want to have everything with this guy, I want it like I've never wanted anything before, not even Broadway, but I feel like when I finally give in and go all the way I'll just be left with the pieces yet again. And that won't be the worst part. No, the worst part will be knowing I'll never recover, I'll never get over it the way I did before, and knowing that I had everything and lost it will actually kill me. And it's totally ridiculous, because the bigger part of me knows that he'd never just leave me after this, because he's not like that. He pretends that he is, and I think a lot of people think that he's exactly like that, but I _know_ he's not.

"He told me once that he'd never hurt me, ever, and I believed him then and that belief has only gotten stronger since then. I know he loves me, that he'd never hurt me, would never just leave me because I do or don't give him what we both want. And I know my feelings are real, more real than anything I might have felt for my _stupid_ ex. But I also know...I know that I'm a little bit broken, and my head gets in the way too much, and I can't ever just go with anything without overthinking and doubting myself and doubting everyone involved. And even though I feel everything so deeply, it's like I have this one defense mechanism that just pushes everyone and everything I love farther away and it hurts more than I ever imagined but it's there and I have to figure out how to work around it but I haven't yet and _that_ \--it hurts even more, hurts more than just me, and just ends up killing me inside a little bit."

Her laugh was wet, thick. "So here I am," she said bitterly. "I've got a guy who loves me, and I love him--and it's this crazy kind of love, the kind I've only ever really seen in musicals and stupid teen dramas and _ridiculous_ Hallmark movies--and I can't go all the way with him even though we both want to, because my ex screwed me-- _us_ \--over, and even though I was over that relationship long before it even ended, really, he's _still_ messing with my life. And honestly I'm praying that it doesn't mess up the rest of my life from now on, because--the guy I'm with now? He's already talking about getting married and moving to New York together and having kids, and I should be scared--terrified--by it, but I'm not because if he hadn't brought it up...I would have, and it would have been in some ridiculous way like some kind of spontaneous proposal or showing up on his doorstep halfway through winter break or--or something, and it would definitely be hundreds, thousands of times more dramatic and embarrassing and ridiculous and insane than I've ever been--even though I've been going on in monologue-slash-soliloquy for at least ten minutes now and you wouldn't think it could get any worse than that but I know and he knows and literally everyone who has ever met us knows that it totally can. It can get so much worse, and I almost hope it will, because at least that will mean it's still there--that I haven't _lost_ this."

Her voice tapered out into heavy breathing, a few tears running along her cheeks, and she couldn't bring herself to look up in the silence. Rachel had seen Jesse, peripherally, throughout her monologue--just out of the corner of her eye, unfocused--just enough to know he was there, sitting on the edge of her bed. And she felt his eyes on her, heavy as lead.

"I could totally see you proposing."

Rachel's eyes snapped up at his thoughtful (if very blunt) tone. "Jesse?"

Her boyfriend laughed a little, pressing the heel of his hand to the corner of his eye. His breathing was labored, like he'd been underwater for a long time and this was his first deep breath of fresh air. He moved, rolling from is sitting position onto his back so his head was lounging on her lap.

He smiled up at her, his blue eyes shining. "I mean, if you want to propose to me, feel free," he continued. "I'm not one for gender roles, you know."

She snorted as he tangled their fingers together. "That's what you took from all that?"

Jesse shrugged. "Maybe I just heard the parts I wanted to hear." He laughed when she gasped in mock outrage. "No, but seriously--totally a Hamlet moment, right there."

His laugh turned to a sigh, and he closed his eyes. "I love you, Rachel," he said softly. "More than I could ever really hope to say, but I do. And I get it--I get _you_. So all that...it helped me, but I know it helped you more. And I'll say it again."

Jesse sat up, spinning to face her. His hand tangled in her hair, tugging it behind her ear and over her shoulder gently.

"Rachel Barbra Berry." His voice was soft, only for her. "I love you. I'm willing to wait as long as you need. You tell me when you're ready, okay? Or don't tell me--maybe the moment will come, and neither of us will really think about it. It doesn't matter, just...Don't ever feel pressured, okay? I would never want you to feel like that's all I care about, because it's not, and I don't just want some kind of quickie with you. Rachel...you deserve romance--no. You deserve _epic_ romance. And it's killing me, a little, knowing that you thought for even a second that you don't deserve that and so much _more_ than I could ever _give_ you. Because you're special, the most incredibly _special_ person I've ever met. So you should get everything you've ever dreamed of. That's what I want to prove to you, that's the only thing I want to prove to you. That you're special, that you deserve to have everything, and that I can and will make all your dreams come true."

His smile widened for just a second, and he leaned in to kiss her quickly. When he pulled back, he kept his eyes locked on hers. "It's...inevitable."

"You like using that word," Rachel blurted.

Jesse shrugged, settling beside her on the bed and pulling her until her head landed on his chest. "It suits us, though."

"You're not wrong." She paused, her lips ticking in a small smile that leaked into her voice. "I should warn you, you know--I dream in cheesy musicals. So making those dreams come true might be a little difficult."

He hummed thoughtfully. "I think I'm up for the challenge."

Her smile widened. "Me, too."

They were quiet for a while, and Jesse grabbed the remote, playing the movie.

Just for a minute, Rachel let herself sink into her bed and into Jesse. She breathed in the smell clinging to his shirt, felt the heat seep from his naturally warm body into her naturally cold one. Just for one minute.

Then she rolled over, grabbing her drink from the nightstand and dragging the blanket he'd given her up over her body. "Do you want a cracker?" she asked him, taking a sip of her shake.

Jesse laughed. "Make it a candy bar."


	7. Chapter 7

Less than a week after the whole  _ declaration of feelings _ debacle, things got a little dicey.

It started simple, when Rachel's phone rang in the middle of rehearsal.

The device had been sitting next to Shelby on the desk, because Rachel was expecting a call from a classmate so they could hammer out a schedule for a class project. So when it rang loudly, the woman jumped a bit.

The music they were practicing cut off abruptly, and as Rachel gasped in air like a dying fish and leaned on Jesse for support, she was surprised to hear an oddly familiar ringtone filter through the auditorium.

_ \--touching me, touching you. Sweet Caroline, good times never seemed so good. I feel inclined... _

In seconds, Rachel had detached herself from Jesse's side and appeared by her phone, already putting it to her ear. The look on her face was so startled, Shelby expected her to be breathless, surprised, gentle, scared. But that's not what happened.

The phone went from the table to Rachel's ear in a tenth of a second, and Shelby had never heard her daughter sound quite as bitter as she did in the second she snapped into the receiver. "What?" she barked, turning to face away from everyone and everything else in the room. "Radio silence for three weeks and suddenly  _ now  _ you want to talk? I'm in rehearsals, I can't--"

"You need to come back to McKinley."

It wasn't the voice she expected, and she recoiled from it automatically.

"How did you get Noah's phone?" There was a pointed silence, and Rachel bit out angrily, "Never mind, stupid question. I don't want to talk right now, okay?"

"Look, man hands," Quinn Fabray snapped. "I don't like it any more than you do. But even I can admit that this club is falling apart without you. Madonna week alone was a travesty--"

"You had Madonna week?  _ Please  _ tell me you at least did  _ Express Yourself  _ and  _ Like a Prayer _ ."

There was a shuffle on the other end, and Kurt came on the line. "Of course we did, drama queen," he scoffed. "I would never allow Madonna week to occur without the best of the best."

Another shuffle, and Mercedes chimed, "But that's not the point. Look, Rachel, we're sorry about this whole thing. But look, you proved your point, we can't do it without you, you held your own. Whatever."

"It's time to come home, Rach," Finn chimed in.

"So the four of you teamed up to get me to come back?" she hissed

"Well, Puck is here, too, but he's not being very supportive at the moment," Mercedes said sternly. "Please, Rachel. We're literally begging you. The club is barely keeping together as it is. We need you if we're going to place at Regionals."

_ Where was this when it would have mattered?  _ Rachel thought bitterly. She sniffed, catching a tear under her eye. "I'm sorry. But it's too late. Don't call me again." And she powered her phone down completely, closed it with a sharp sound, and tossed it onto the desk without looking at anyone.

She closed her eyes, taking a breath to harden herself. Then she spun, giving her mom an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I wasn't expecting... _ them _ ...to call. We can just get back to rehearsals. Sorry for the interruption."

Shelby observed her for a moment before nodding slowly. "If you're sure, Rachel."

Rachel felt her resolve strengthen with every step she took away from her phone and towards the stage--towards Jesse. "I'm positive," she said, plastering on a show face for everyone to see. "From the top?"

Jesse laid a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Rach?" he asked softly. "What was--"

"It was nothing," she clipped, cutting him off with a look. She glanced around pointedly as the other VA members looked on.

Her boyfriend nodded, his brows still furrowed in concern. "Later?" he murmured.

Rachel sighed, pulling him into position for the number. "Later," she breathed.

Shelby's voice rang out, crisp and clear, "From the top."

* * *

“So what was that call about?”

Rachel raised a brow at the boy lounging on her bed. “It was nothing.”

Jesse hummed. “Right. Didn’t look like nothing.” He observed her for a moment before sitting up with a smirk. “Let me guess--they finally realized just what they’re missing.”

“I doubt it,” she bit. “They probably only want me to come back so that they don't have to go against me.”

“Isn’t that basically the same thing?”

“No.” Rachel breathed a heavy sigh. “If they wanted me back because they finally realized my perfection, they would have come to me as friends. They would have given me perfect platitudes until I was begging to come back. But no. The fact that they didn’t, the fact that literally tried to guilt-trip me into coming back by saying they  _ need  _ me if they’re going to place in Regionals…No, they just don’t want to go against me. They probably think that they’re doing me a favor, that I’ll come back as their lead because I’m not a lead in VA. But they don’t know I  _ am  _ a lead. So I’m not going back.” Finally, she met her boyfriend’s gaze. “Okay?”

Jesse pulled her down onto the bed and into his arms. “Yeah, okay.” He huffed a laugh. “I guess they’ll be pretty surprised at Regionals, huh?”

“Definitely. I can’t wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi. So...this is obviously not an update, it's really just me changing the notes to let people know what's going down with me. This same note is gonna be posted in the notes of every one of my WIPs, so if you're reading multiples, you just have to read on of them--it's exactly the same note.
> 
> So, I'm a fucking retard. Like, maybe the dumbest person on the planet. What's that saying? "The definition of insanity/ignorance is repeating the same actions and expecting a different outcome"? Basically, yeah. Either I'm stupid or insane, because that's what I keep doing.
> 
> Okay, here's the gist--I. Don't. Do. Technology. I don't. And technology doesn't really seem to want to cooperate with me, ever, either.
> 
> Basically, I took everything off of my phone--pictures, videos, documents, music, everything that wasn't an app pretty much--and put it on my computer. Not a big deal, I've done this several times when I'm working on renaming or organizing or whatever.
> 
> Except.
> 
> My mom got a NEW computer. That means we have three now (four if you count the desktop that nobody uses and that doesn't even work really). She says we're getting rid of the oldest laptop--which is the one I always use--because it sucks and they don't make updates for it anymore etcetera etcetera.
> 
> So my dumb ass is like, welp, gotta get my shit together, and I took everything I had on that computer--yes, everything, again--and put it on a SanDisk FlashDrive.
> 
> And NOW THE DAMN THING WON'T FUCKING OPEN. Everything is gone. Gone. Gone. Gone.
> 
> Docs. Pics. 20,000 songs. Videos. Everything. My whole life--down the drain. I basically have to start over and I don't even know half the things I lost. I swear to every fucking god I can think of, if I have to answer for my screaming and crying one more time...
> 
> Anyway, yes, I'm a dumbass. I'm a crazy bitch. And I'm so, so, so, so, SO sorry for this shit. I know ya'll want to read this, but I don't have any of it anymore. It's gone. I have to start over. Honestly, half of my stories might not come back from this. I'll let you know. IDK what you wanna do, subscribe or bookmark or whatever you need to do to get updates, but it's gonna be a couple of months. If this had happened at the beginning of summer, maybe it would take less time. But I'm starting my first year of college, and updates were already gonna be slower even than my usual turtle-ness, so...
> 
> Anyway, I'm really, really, really sorry. Please don't hate me. I won't day it's not my fault, because it is, but I AM sorry that I'm disappointing everyone. Again.
> 
> Okay. Talk to y'all soon. I've got work to do.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think! If you like it, tell me and I'll write more. If you don't like it, let me know what you think I can do with it!


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